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“J. F. Bailey, Pli.D ” 


Hillary G. Bailey, F.R.P.S. 



THE STORY 
OF A FACE 


by 

HILLARY G. BAILEY, F. R, P. S. 


CAMERA CRAFT PUBLISHING COMPANY 

4 2 5 BUSH STREET SAN FRANCISCO, CALIF. 


e-6 p-/ Z, 


Copyright 1938 

Camera Craft Publishing Company 
San Francisco 


T7? 48a 
•2 3 

^ <2 p y 


First Edition 
December 1938 



Printed in the United States of America 
by The Mercury Press, San Francisco 


<€>CtA 1 2451 8 

JAN 10 1939 39-^3^ 



ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS 


Rarely can any author truthfully boast that his work is largely 
the result of his own ingenuity. He knows that at best he is but the 
scribe who has sorted, arranged and compiled the view-points of 
others. Least of all can this author claim originality. He has pur¬ 
posely consulted respected authority after authority to find the 
material outlined herewith. Only a few of the expressions are of his 
own inventing. He is particularly indebted to his father, Dr. J. F. 
Bailey, first of all; to Herman A. Scherrer for thoughts on the 
philosophy of perspective and general advice; to Walter W. Bonns 
for counsel and suggestion; and to George A. Saas for encourage¬ 
ment. John R. Harman, Jr. and Lloyd Varden checked manuscripts, 
read copy and otherwise contributed sage advice. Paul Arnold, 
Verne Reckmeyer, Henry Fowler and Herman Newhouse assisted 
materially. Likewise, Dr. Max Thorek, William West, Warren Munk, 
Paul W. Bell, James Barr Bogner and the Agfa Ansco Laboratory 
technicians deserve mention. 

To those charming ladies who contributed their time or beauty, 
praise must be given. First, of course, my wife, Beulah Collins 
Bailey, and my mother deserve the major share. Grace Clarke, Anita 
Galpeer, Rita Kennedy and many others including my secretary, 
Miss Helen Farley, are due credit for the help they so graciously 
supplied. 

The Dust Jacket was designed by John R. Sullivan, Jr., Art 
Director of the Agfa Ansco Corporation, Binghamton, N. Y. 


5 


TABLE OF CONTENTS 


Foreword 


Chapter One . . . . . . . . . . ]0 

The fT hy of Portraiture Past and Present 

Present achievements—The Gizeh Sphinx—Impelling forces which make a 
uant for portraiture—The parade instinct — Sentiment—Early religious effects 
—Portraiture and mortuary index systems—Appolodorus, the prophet of pho¬ 
tography—The eras of flourishing portraiture—Influence of national politics 
—Renaissance portraiture—Miniature painting—Cultural inhibitions which 
have injured the ivant for portraiture. 


Chapter Two ......... 17 

Plehian Portraits 

The paradox of photography’s invention in relation to its service and the 
international political situation—the effect on the artists—Paul Delaroche— 

The fear of the machine—Artistic discredit -— Impressionism—Button pushing 
—“Look at the Birdie” — Catch-as-catch-can. Trial and error—Formula hounds 
and the mechanical robot. 


Chapter Three ......... 23 

To Write with Light 

Heliography — Phos — Grapho—Light as an agency for exposure—As a writing 
tool—The four properties of light which concern the photographer — Isotro- 
pism — Speed — Intensity—Amount and nature of its reflection—Position of a 
surface in relation to a light source—The degree of its absorptive power—The 
law of high lights—Artificial illumination and daylight. 


Chapter Four ......... 37 

The Photographer s Drawing Pencil 

The lens—The oldest lens—Nero and his emerald—Charles Chevaliar—The 
lens and the human eve—The pinhole—Making use of so-called defects —- 
Spherical aberration — Chromatic aberration — Curvilinear distortion — Dali- 
meyer—Curvature of field — Astigmatism — Dr. Rudolph—Circles of confusion 
—Nature of images—The soft focus lens as a “control process.” 


6 


49 


Chapter Five ......... 

The Photographer s Drawing Pencil (continued) 

Proper method of valuing a lens—Depth of focus and depth of definition —- 
Aperture size and depth of definition—Focal lengths and depth of focus — 

Stops diaphragms— Exposure control—Selective definition. 

Chapter Six .......... 57 

The Illusion of Depth 

Creating three dimensional effects on a flat surface—Linear perspective — 
Visibility of form as affected by illumination—Intensities of brightness areas 
—Degree of differential definition — Two-eyed and single-eyed vision—The 
vanishing point—Swing backs and horizontal and perpendicular vanishing 
points. Point of view. The effect of long and short focus lenses on perspective 
— Distortion—Controlling the relative size of features. Photographing fat and 
slender people—Psychological effect of light and shade—Confusion of bright¬ 
ness intensities (md color recording—Destroying perspective by stopping 
down. Atmospheric perspective. Effect of sharp and soft focus lenses—Fog 
piercing emulsions. 

Chapter Seven ......... 74 

Negative and Print Quality- 

Differences of opinion on what is good quality—The manufacturer s aim — 
Emulsion characteristics—Speed —Contrast — Color sensitivity — Den sity — 
Opacity — Transmission—Under exposure and over exposure — Sensitometry — 

The characteristic curve—Gamma — Reflecting surfaces—Practical trials — 
Proficiency in craftsmanship. 

Chapter Eight ......... 87 

Com position 

The instrument for interpretation — Treatment — Individuality—Order out of 
chaos—Organized simplicity—Composition and psychology—Additive and 
subtractive composition—Center of interest—Mechanics of securing the aes¬ 
thetic center—The highest light—The darkest dark—Definition—Eye paths — 

Axial vanishing point—Maximum intensity- — Symmetry — Rhythm — Balance. 

Chapter Nine ......... 104 

From Head to Foot 

Posing—Poses from anatomical standpoint—Head and shoulders — Three- 
quarter figures—Full lengths — Eyes, the windows of the soul—The mouth — 

The three posing positions—Putting movement into a static representation — 
Natural graces—The dancer—Feet first—The S-curve—The spiral. 


Chapter Ten . . . . . . . . . .117 

Images Not Seen on the Ground Glass 

Technical excellence — Composition — Attitude — Persoiudity — Environment — 
Meditation—Man and a monkey—Measuring one’s self—Images not seen on 
the ground glass that interfere with good pictures—Unconscious images — 
Willful remembering—Forming an Ideal—Conditioning that ideal—Creating 
art. 

After Word .......... 126 


7 


FOREWORD 


A few years ago, a timid gentleman whose two eyes 
did double duty for him in that they looked in two 
directions at once, both to the right and left of him, came 
into my studio and pointing to his wide angle vision, said: 

“You see I have an affliction with my eyes. People 
say I am ‘wall eyed,’ but there is a young lady who doesn’t 
care and she wants a portrait of me. Can you fix me up; 
so that I will look the way I want to look instead of the 
way I do look?” 

That day this book began. 

All the texts I had read on photography were excel¬ 
lent copy book maxims of do’s and don’ts, not one of 
which had explained a dilemma such as this. My photo¬ 
graphic education had not developed an ingenuity for 
solving problems the rule books had omitted. I was still 
following formulas instead of practicing principles. 
Naturally, I was stumped. Of course, I had found rules 
to be excellent devices as far as they went. But they 
didn’t go far enough. Nor do they today. 

Then and there I determined to seek a new develop¬ 
ing solution, so to speak; one that would develop me as 
well as the picture; something that would supply a fun- 


damental understanding of portraiture which could he 
adapted to emergencies such as recalcitrant eyes. The 
formula for that developer is this book. 

Usually the most popular method of study is analy¬ 
tical. Could anything he more practical than to take a 
clock apart to see what makes it tick? In other words, 
to analyze it? Or what is more informative than to dis¬ 
assemble a motor to see what revolves the crankshaft? 
Unquestionably nothing, except that when the clock is 
taken apart and the motor disassembled (that is, ana¬ 
lyzed) the former will not tick nor will the latter run 
until put back together again. 

To offer the beginner, the hobbyist or the profes¬ 
sional, be they still photographers or cinematographers, 
another analytical treatise would be superfluous. Emi¬ 
nent scholars have already supplied that want. But to 
present a discussion which puts the analyzed pieces to¬ 
gether again, which follows a synthetical program, is to 
give the novice, the pictorialist, the professional, the 
cinematographer and even the general reader a fund of 
fundamental principles which all will enjoy reading. 
Should this text succeed in this capacity its several years 
of preparation have not been in vain. 

If this view-point be wise then formulas may be used 
not as the sum of picture making skill, but as important 
parts to be fit into a functioning whole. Credit for this 
philosophy is due my scholarly father, Dr. J. F. Bailey, 
whose opinions have been followed and whose notebook 
has been copied extensively. In a large measure he is 
the real author of this text, although he did not live to 
see its completion. 

Hillary G. Bailey, f.r.p.s. 

Binghamton , N. Y. 

November 1938 


CHAPTER ONE 


The Why of Portraiture Past and Present 


It is a conviction common to every generation that theirs is the 
greatest and most enterprising in history’s parade of progress; that 
their achievements and contributions surpass every accomplishment 
that has gone before; that in comparison to the present all past 
achievements are antiquated, old-fashioned and worth little except 
to engage the attention of historians. On the whole such an impres¬ 
sion is true, especially in the practical applications of science in a 
machine age. But there are many outstanding and noteworthy excep¬ 
tions; some of which are astonishing and even awe inspiring. Por¬ 
traiture experiences one of these unusual irregularities. 

Present day camera workmen, particularly those concerned with 
recording the stories of men’s faces, may be quite surprised to recall 
that the oldest portrait in existence is still, at least, the second most 
gigantic enlargement ever executed by human craftsmanship. They 
are certain to be entranced, if they be true artists, with the colossal 
size and remarkable design of the ancient Gizeh Sphinx, which still 
stands one hundred and eiglity-seven feet long and sixty feet high on 
the arid sands of historic Egypt, a stupendous monument to a lost 
engineering and artistic skill. 

The reasons which caused Pharoah Kliafra fifty-five centuries ago 
to construct this monumental personal picture were no different, 
except, perhaps, in degree of motivation, from the forces which influ- 


10 


ence people to employ photographers today. For from the beginning 
there have been but two fundamental behavior patterns which mani¬ 
fest themselves in a desire for portraiture among normal persons. 
Abnormality may supply certain added and contradictory complexes 
but generally speaking a final analysis will reveal but two impelling 
forces; especially if it be admitted that the greater portion of the 
population be normal rather than abnormal as many insist. 

These two primary motives are the parade instinct —vanity, pre¬ 
tentiousness, ostentation, self-esteem and self-justification; and senti¬ 
ment —love, affection, fondness, friendship, adoration and infatua¬ 
tion. These are the only real reasons for recording the story of a 
face. They constitute the only alibi for graphically advertising a per¬ 
sonal likeness. The ego billboard seldom, if ever, adorns an exhibition 
space no matter how inconspicuous without one or the other of these 
impellents, even though the degree by which each imparts its influ¬ 
ence may he vastly different. 

The manner and consequence to which these two characteristics 
have affected portraiture is peculiar in some instances, amusing in 
many, and very often significant to the religious and economic social 
status of given periods. Unquestionably the parade instinct drove 
Pharoah Khafra to undertake what until recently was the largest 
of all portraits; hut the manner and extent of his particular mani¬ 
festation was influenced by the philosophies of his environment. 

For ancient Egyptians believed in a life after death and the 
reincarnation of the body, or something strikingly similar. Death to 
them was something they could not quite understand even as it 
perplexes us today should we stop to think and survive the exercise. 
They could not disassociate soul and body even after interment. Un¬ 
questionably death liberated the soul from the body, but where did 
it go from there? Did it hang in mid air? Did it lodge in a swaying 
tree, or on the edge of a ragged cliff, or where did it go? They could 
not conceive of its floating around in space, time without end, until a 
new life began. Eventually it had to rest from air excursions and 
expeditionary wanderings. And to their way of thinking no more 
fitting place could be imagined than the former living body, if it 


11 


could be kept around. So they perfected embalming to preserve a 
tenantable home for the soul. 

But how was a travel weary spirit upon its return to a public 
burying ground to know which of a row of embalmed bodies was its 
own? No circumstance could have been more abhorred by these 
ancient orthodox Egyptians than the terrifying possibility of a vaca¬ 
tioning spirit not being able to recognize and find its proper and 
rightful resting place. Accordingly, they employed skilled artists to 
paint or sculptor images of the deceased either on the respective 
coffins or on the tomb wall close by to make identification simple. 
Pharoali Kliafra’s parade instinct and self-evaluation caused him to 
think he would need the biggest portrait engineers and artists could 
build both to properly impress posterity and to point out to his 
immortal spirit where his earthly body could be found in case a 
landing field were necessary. 

Extreme skill in translating and recording exact likenesses was 
imperative. Impressionistic artists of today with their distortions, 
effects and illogical draftsmanship would have been banished from 
Egypt with hasty dispatch. Positive and accurate identification of 
interred bodies became a national ambition. 

So portraiture began as the result of a parade instinct but resolved 
itself into an institution of precaution against possible error in spiri¬ 
tual bookkeeping; into a simplified mortuary index system, as it were, 
or perhaps, into a cataloging solution for a housing problem. 

It is unfortunate that time, largely through the destructive instru¬ 
ments of wars, has destroyed such material evidences of portraiture 
as may have been produced before the Egyptian period; hut it is 
reasonable to suppose that the parade instinct which has always 
existed found some manifestation in graphic form. Who is to say that 
this author is too imaginative and presumptive if he suggests that the 
original and legendary father Adam undertook some such illustration 
as a release for his own instincts? Was he not made in God’s own 
image and was that not something to be proud of? If lie did not 
undertake to picture his own physical perfection certainly he tried 
to represent that of his beautiful spouse as she strutted before him. 


12 


He could not have been so unresponsive as to have failed to appre¬ 
ciate her dazzling beauty. If he did nothing more he must have tried 
to fashion mud images of her on the bank of a stream as she used its 
placid waters as a mirror to study her charms. Such an attempt would 
have been the natural result of a parade instinct primarily with some 
show of sentimentality thrown in for good measure. Certainly, the 
latter force played an unconscious if not an insignificant role in the 
drama of life during those early days. 

The pages of history and the legends of literature are replete with 
the exploits of men whose egocentric ambitions demanded pictorial 
records to impress succeeding generations. Written symbols were 
inadequate to describe the pageants, the wars, the tales of heroism 
and gallantry that impressed the ancient mind. It may have been that 
there were artists who fashioned canvases, murals, and statues of the 
significant events; unquestionably such pictures have existed, hut 
they have long since perished. Even the remarkable masterpieces of 
Classic Greece which Plato describes so glowingly have been de¬ 
stroyed. Appolodorous, the “shadow painter,” so named because he 
first applied the principles of light and shade to painting and in that 
sense was the first prophet of photography, is lost to posterity except 
in fable. Likewise the famous grapes of Zeuxis which were related 
to be so perfectly executed that even the birds were fooled, and the 
deceptive draperies of Parrhasius, also the epitome of perfection, 
have long since been destroyed. 

From the few fragmentary art objects which have escaped destruc¬ 
tion and still exist to indicate the habits of antiquity, it would seem 
that portraiture has enjoyed four seasons of popularity since history 
began. First, the Egyptian period already described; and second, an 
era just preceding the birth of Christ. 

The second interval has material testimony in the form of a small 
colored wax portrait of a young Egyptian who had enlisted in the 
Roman army and been sent to Misenum, Italy, for training. No 
sooner had the boat docked than the lad sought out a hack portrait 
painter who applied his trade on a street corner (which proves the 
popularity of such work) had his likeness painted and sent it with a 


13 


letter to his father back in Egypt. He was expressing his parade 
instinct for he had just received a new uniform. Sentiment may have 
shared the purposing of this boy’s action, but if so surely it was a 
secondary influence. As yet the world had not experienced the joy 
and pain of sentimental relations to an appreciable extent, for senti¬ 
ment is a cultivated characteristic. Several other similar wax paint¬ 
ings have been discovered all of which were, no doubt, made about 
this time, showing that portraiture was enjoying a season of popular 
appreciation and was also sufficiently inexpensive to be possessed by 
others than the very rich. 

With the decline of the Roman Empire, however, and its attend¬ 
ing vices, abuses, degeneracies and debauches there was little chance 
to record such parade instincts as may have existed, and there was 
too little sentiment to help the cause of portraiture. It is significant 
to observe that during those periods of the world’s political history 
when class hatred has been exalted in order to change rulers, to throw 
the “ins” out and put the “outs” in, all other holier emotions and 
motivations have been crushed. Proof of this statement may easily 
be found by checking the picture production during revolutionary 
turmoils such as the famous French and Russian murder orgies, or 
some of the comparatively bloodless but bloodthirsty political redis¬ 
tributions of wealth as such plunderings have been excused by their 
promoters. The parade instinct may project these very debacles but 
somehow it finds no graphic recording under the fanatical ruthless¬ 
ness of political purging. The nature or set up of the particular 
political party which at the time has undertaken its exploitation 
program makes no difference in the results on portrait making. It 
matters not whether it be called Fascism, Communism, Redism, 
Whiteism, Marxism or just plain Hellishism, portraiture ceases to 
have a place in popular needs during such social readjustments. 

Something like 1200 years were to lapse after the pre-Christian 
portrait era before graphic stories of the face were to again be 
recognized by popular support, and then it was to manifest itself in 
a peculiar and unique manner. By the 12th century governments had 
ceased their wars long enough for trade to establish a little capital. 


14 


Man had some degree of assurance that he could face the next day 
without hunger and political plundering; so his mind turned to the 
finer things of life. Again his inherent parade instinct sought a suit¬ 
able billboard. Sentiment still seemed to be lacking or, at least, too 
weak to be an impelling influence. This was the period during which 
so many of the old masters were produced. Perhaps it was the great¬ 
est age of worthwhile picture production that the world has ever 
enjoyed. Merchants, traders and gentry sought the inherent satisfac¬ 
tion of seeing their likenesses transferred onto the canvases which 
the old masters were painting. They were even willing to pay for the 
privilege of being one of the models, so impelling were their desires 
to be recorded graphically. Of course, their wishes were nearly always 
gratified, and their monies accepted by the artists. Their reward was 
the simple joy of pointing to an obscure character on a great canvas 
and exclaiming, “That’s me.” Once again portraiture became a prac¬ 
ticed institution. 

As the Renaissance movement progressed, influencing all human 
emotions, portraiture stepped out of the group canvases and became 
an industry all of its own. At first huge pictures of individuals were 
popular, but later the art of miniature painting was inaugurated 
with such success that it reached a peak of perfection during the 
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries never since equalled. 

Miniature painting marks the introduction of the second behavior 
pattern impelling a demand for portraiture to a degree of importance. 
Sentiment was now to share the honors of creating a desire for per¬ 
sonal pictures along with the parade instinct. No doubt, the pattern 
had always been present but not in a sufficient degree to be of much 
influence. It took centuries of culture and appreciation of those 
emotions promoted by ethics and religion before this worthy moti¬ 
vation could become a real force in the lives of people. By now 
civilization had progressed to where other emotions besides greed 
and hate could be recognized. Love, esteem and affection came to be 
appreciated. Immediately there was need of some tangible proof of 
this holier emotion and portraiture supplied the perfect symbol. 
From then until now it has maintained a superior place within the 


15 


realm of tokens which could testify to and witness for this the finest 
of all human relationships—love. 

Again greed and hate in the form of wars and political exploita¬ 
tion changed the emphasis of man’s interest and portraiture slowly 
passed from the public stage and remained an almost forgotten ex¬ 
pression until the turn of the nineteenth century when photography 
was invented to offer all men, regardless of station, the singular op¬ 
portunity of recording their own faces, not only to satisfy a parade 
instinct, hut to cultivate the cultured emotions of love, friendship, 
adoration, admiration, devotion and sentiment. 

In the progress of civilization toward what it today pleases to 
call culture, the parade instinct of man has been rationalized and 
inhibited by a restraint generally described as modesty. The show-off 
behavior pattern is still present, but the degree of its motivation has 
been tempered by either a genuine or an assumed diffidence. In many 
instances the assumption is little more than a bid for praise, and that 
again is an expression of self-display. 

In any case portraiture has suffered. Man has feared to have his 
parade instinct ridiculed should he display it by having a portrait 
made of himself. He may still secretly long for the exhibition symbol, 
but he hesitates to lay himself liable to taunts by consummating that 
desire with tangible evidence. Today sentiment alone prods man into 
secretly indulging a bit of vanity. The blame for his action can he 
placed upon the recipient of the portrait and not on himself. That is 
not to say that portraiture results only from a desire to record the ego 
camouflaged under a sentimental excuse. Heaven forbid such a con¬ 
clusion should come from this discussion. The one can not be 
divorced from the other as persuading influences for the picture 
taking of faces. The degree with which one or the other of these 
inherent forces influence each person to action, no doubt, differs 
with each individual. In the beginning the parade instinct was the 
stronger agency. Today the pendulum has swung so far in the other 
direction as to forbid even legitimate ostentation, and forces senti¬ 
ment to drive man to his purchase of portraiture. In such a manner 
has time changed the action of man. 


16 


CHAPTER TWO 


Plebian Portraits 


That chapter of the story of a face which has been told by pho¬ 
tography began under the shadow of the guillotine. Blood may have 
run red in the streets of France to satisfy and appease the fanatical 
emotions of men bent on removing their adversaries’ faces from the 
numbers of the living; but photography survived to provide a process 
whereby still other men, with holier emotions, might preserve the 
cherished images of those faces near and dear to them. 

Europe was plunged into one of its many murderous social re¬ 
organizations when the action of light on silver salts became an 
isolated scientific fact. The atrocities of the Reign of Terror, the 
disastrous dreams of the mad Napoleon, and the pitiful last return of 
the French aristocratic regime traced the political course of a Con¬ 
tinental Europe while photography was crawling toward a place in 
the sun. Born in the heat and discontent of revolutionary passions 
it is small wonder that it later became itself a force for uprooting an 
existing order of artistic smugness that was to be as far reaching in 
its sphere as any of the political or social readjustments. 

Ten years before the turn of the century photography had grown 
and developed to such proportions that it could be said to have com¬ 
pleted its primitive childhood. During this primitive period technical 


17 


excellence had been a difficult problem to solve. Lenses were without 
needed accuracy, and emulsions lacked much that was desirable. The 
now famous portraits of D. O. Hill had been executed under technical 
handicaps unbelievable to present day workers. 

Those interested in the new picture making craft had labored 
ceaselessly to achieve a goal of critical definition. That had been the 
aim, too, of the painters and sculptors for many years. Painstaking 
detail and unimpeachable draftsmanship had characterized the ambi¬ 
tion and skill of all artists. 

Although there is little documentary record to establish the fact, 
there is no doubt but that much concern and anxiety existed among 
the artist fraternity over the new photography as the following inci¬ 
dent indicates. 

An artist by the name of Paul Delaroche sought out Daguerre (a 
Frenchman who was the first to practice for public benefit a mechani¬ 
cal portrait making process) and had a daguerrotype made of him* 
self. When he saw the completed copper plate he exclaimed in amaze¬ 
ment, if not in disappointment, “From this day painting is dead!” 
Of course, his prophecy was incorrect, but his statement describes his 
fear for his profession. 

Portraits were not the only subjects which this new process could 
record. Any subject matter which reflected light could he rendered 
into an image form. It is no wonder that artists were perturbed over 
such an upstart process which could picture in minute black and 
white detail, within the space of a few hours at the most, a subject 
matter which they were obliged to spend days and maybe weeks to 
represent. Furthermore, the detail and drawing done by the new 
machine was more accurate than the skill of their hands. Unques¬ 
tionably the machine was feared lest it usurp the favor and patron¬ 
age so jealously enjoyed by the established arts. 

Why is it not perfectly correct to reason that in consternation and 
desperation artists invented a new form of expression which they 
called impressionism, whose attributes were magically mysterious, in 
order to stem a waning interest in themselves and recover a threat¬ 
ened popularity? Of course, they claimed that it was the academic 


18 


and facsimile rendering of things as they were instead of as one 
should feel about it that caused their revolt and adoption of impres¬ 
sionism with its calligraphic style. But was it not the camera which 
taught them that art had been picturing subject matter in close depic¬ 
tion? Why is photography not the real reason for the impressionistic 
movement although artists would never blame nor credit its superb 
accuracy for prodding them into intangible inventiveness? 

Be that as it may, it is apparent that photography, horn, nursed 
and educated in a period of political and social revolution intended 
to make all men free and equal, has provided a picture recording 
equality whereby the ordinary man may have pictures of himself as 
readily as the privileged. In fact, there is some fact to the accusation 
that photography has become so common-place as to lack sufficient 
popular appreciation in proportion to its virtues and the skill re¬ 
quired for its production. Many lament the advertising promotion 
which suggested that photography was nothing more than button 
pushing. 

Of greater misfortune is that fact that too much of the hutton¬ 
pushing, machine-made, concept of photography crept into the pro¬ 
fessional photographer’s thinking. Perhaps the concept was the 
natural product of a machine age, or maybe the pressure of economic 
necessity denied rational thinking in all instances. Even that would 
not have been so discouraging if there had not developed a teaching 
now but rarely advocated which maintained that a good photogra¬ 
pher’s skill consisted primarily in his vaudeville antics; in his ability 
to be a clown and a mountebank. Although he may only have told 
the infants to “Look at the birdie,” his methods with adults were to 
he little less infantile according to this fallacious teaching. It has not 
been many months since there appeared in print a set of directions 
said to constitute the only successful portrait making method, which 
stipulated a long shutter release of ten feet or so which the photogra¬ 
pher could squeeze unobserved by the victim. Then the photographer 
was to crack wise, tell jokes, walk up and down, talk volubly about 
how to run the victim’s affairs under the excuse of interesting him 
and taking his attention away from the camera. During all this act 


19 


he was to snap, and snap, and snap (like a novice) hoping that by 
some lucky accident a picture of the face would be secured. 

Such prescriptions seem scarcely dignified enough for an intelli¬ 
gent man. The psychologists describe such a procedure as “trial and 
error.” Their favorite illustration is the dog which jumps and jumps 
and jumps at a box under which has been placed a piece of meat. He 
uses no intelligence to direct his movements. He simply trusts to luck 
that the box will upset because of one of his capers and the meat will 
be available. Should a portrait photographer follow a similar pro¬ 
gram of trusting to luck, he runs a great deal of risk of being classified 
in intelligence with the common alley cur. Few have such ambitions 
and it must be stated in tribute to the profession that few accepted 
the teaching and followed its principles. 

To have practiced a catch-as-catch-can procedure would have 
discounted the photographer’s skill in the opinion of his prospective 
customer, for should the customer conclude that the photographer’s 
ability is purely theatrical, that he is but a trick entertainer, that 
customer may very logically believe himself to be as skilled as the 
photographer and go out and buy an amateur outfit to prove it. 

To the great majority of thinking people, photography is a process 
of selecting and applying a formulary of receipts and prescribed 
forms. Should one photographer take one emulsion coated film con¬ 
taining a predetermined mixture of appropriately treated silver salts, 
and expose it to the reflected light of a particular face through a lens 
of selected optical correctness, and should then submit the light 
affected emulsion to the reducing action of certain alkalis, a negative 
would result, which if further associated with another emulsion cov¬ 
ered support such as paper and the process repeated, would produce a 
“positive” image, and the processor may claim to be a portrait maker 
by photography. If the procedure be repeated with reasonable 
mathematical precision duplicates can be made with satisfactory 
accuracy. 

I have a highly esteemed chemist friend who once compared pho¬ 
tography to cooking. He said that if a cook should take so many 
apples, cut them into specified shapes, and should add a prescribed 


20 


amount of sugar, butter, cinnamon and maybe nutmeg, then should 
place the mixture between layers of pie dough and bake in an Oven 
of a given temperature for a required number of minutes, the result 
is an apple pie. Well, I have tried to eat a great many pies made in 
some such insipid manner just as I have had to look at a great many 
portraits produced just as mechanically. 

Perhaps the apple pie formulated by my chemist friend would be 
edible, but except in a lucky case it would not be delectable nor 
delicious. It might be digestible but rarely would it be savory or 
tasty. Fortunately, the best cooks still season by taste instead of by 
arithmetic. Of course, if all apples were alike when supplied to a 
cook, maybe apple pies could be reduced to an exact science of con¬ 
stant palatableness for constant tastes. But it happens that some 
apples are sweet and some are sour, that some are hard and others 
are mellow, that some grow to a rich, luscious flavor, and others are 
acrid and unappetizing. Even onions vary. Some are hot and some 
are hotter. Some stimulate pleasantly with an exhilarating burn and 
others seem to scorch the entire digestive tract. Furthermore, the 
tastes of cooks and customers differ. What is dainty to one may be 
abominable to another; what is exquisite to one may be bitter to 
another, and the formula must vary to please every particular whim. 
“Season to taste” will always remain the first law of food preparation. 

Excellent photographers sometimes prescribe rules and formulas 
for portrait making. Their instructions are always valuable. From 
the assimilated information gathered from similar sources a student 
may construct an individual technique of his own. But rank imita¬ 
tion is always pitiful. To return from an instructive demonstration 
and endeavor to copy the teacher by rigidly following formulas may 
produce records but it misses the province and possibilities that 
photography offers to the inventive mind. 

Of course, photography is a mechanical robot to click at the 
command of the man in the street. Otherwise that man would never 
have had any portraits of himself. But fortunately it is something 
more. It is a precision process obeying fixed laws and formulas at 
the service of a trained man and is capable of serving him with rec- 


21 


ords of established scientific exactness. Even that is not all. It is a 
craft offering apparatus, formulas, receipts and such efficient tools 
with which a man of imagination may interpret an idea, relate an 
experience or make a portrait. Then it may ascend to the high and 
lofty rating of an art. 

Born under the shadow of the guillotine had nothing to do, of 
course, with those few “cut-throat” methods which crept into pro¬ 
fessional practices to disturb and annoy the standard bearers of 
ethics, even though it may have been prophetic. Whether or not 
photography was a revolutionary force which helped to overthrow 
the tyranny of an established artistic aristocracy is a matter of little 
consequence beyond personal belief. But it is significant that pho¬ 
tography has progressed to a perfection whereby workmen of intelli¬ 
gence, education and imagination may express themselves in a highly 
commendable and satisfactory manner. 


22 


CHAPTER THREE 


To Write with Light 


Had Joseph Nicephore Niepce been younger than Louis Jacques 
Mande Daguerre and lived the longer of the two instead of dying 
before their combined picture making process was heralded to the 
world, camera made pictures might be called heliographs and what 
we today call photography might be spoken of as heliography (from 
helio meaning the sun, and grapho meaning I write). Niepce’s nom¬ 
enclature was significant to his discoveries for the elderly Frenchman 
had made all his observations under the brilliance of a southern 
French sun and his asphaltum images were in his opinion, therefore, 
best described as heliographs. 

Heliography would be insufficiently descriptive today, for the 
greater bulk of silver-imaged pictures are made without direct 
benefit of the sun. Just who coined the word photography is not 
absolutely known, although the British claim credit is due Sir John 
Herschel. At least Daguerre was more concerned with attaching his 
own name to the process than to giving it a descriptive nomenclature. 
But whoever did fashion the word was logical, imaginative and 
prophetic. 

Photography is so commonplace that like all things with which 
people are quite familiar its rightful definition has become vague. 


23 


The average person would no doubt define photography as “just 
makin’ pictures.” Such a statement while superficially true is far 
from adequate or dignified. The word photography is derived from 
two Greek words, phos meaning light and grapho meaning to write , 
or I ivrite. Then photography is the significant process of writing with 
light. The fact that the writing is done by the physical process of 
producing images on sensitized surfaces by the chemical action of 
light is to challenge the study of the most diligent students and sin¬ 
cere scholars. To appreciate the definition itself is to progress beyond 
the trial and error, catch-as-catch-can philosophy previously dis¬ 
cussed. By it alone the portrait photographer may consider exhibi¬ 
tional antics and mountebank performances as simply magic toys in 
his hag of tricks and not the sum of his skill. His responsibilities in 
telling the story of a face may extend toward producing something 
finer than a mere record of the customer’s teeth and maybe a tonsil 
or two. The yardstick of his success may cease to be compared with 
the sawdust ring of a clown circus. 

Furthermore, with this definition of photography, light becomes 
more than just an agency for securing a correct exposure. It becomes 
a tool far more potent than the mechanical process of producing a 
chemical reaction within sensitized salts. For the source of illumina¬ 
tion to he somewhere behind the camera may be sufficient for a 
novice, but to a photographer it is only a starting point. To him light 
is the lead in his sketching pencil, the ink for his pen or the crayon 
for his drawing. It is the instrument of a thousand shades with which 
to picture a thousand different meanings. It is the medium by virtue 
of which men of imagination may communicate with each other. 

The photographer need not disturb himself with the new theories 
pertaining to the properties of light which have been advanced within 
the last few years unless he enjoys the sport of mental exercise for 
its own sake. For all practical purposes the present accepted philoso¬ 
phy, that the phenomenon of light is the transference of energy by a 
wave motion, is sufficient and completely adequate. The processes 
by which this transference is accomplished is described as radiation. 

Radiations emanate from two classes of bodies; first those which 


24 


are known as luminous since they are sources of light and second 
illuminated bodies which although non-luminous have the ability to 
reflect from their surfaces in varying degrees certain portions of the 
light radiating from a luminous source. This class includes all visible 
reflections such as the moon, a piece of paper, a face and so on in¬ 
definitely. It is well for the portrait maker to know that as far as 
photography is concerned it includes much more. Visible light radia¬ 
tions are not the sum of all the actinic emanations as seen by the 
modern emulsion. 

For most purposes the photographer is concerned with employing 
luminous bodies to represent illuminated ones. To do so he must 
make use of four properties of light. They are: 

1. Its direction or propagation. 

2. Its speed. 

3. Its brightness or intensity. 

4. The amount and nature of its reflection. 

Again, the practical photographer need not he concerned with all 
those newly advanced theoretical corollaries intended to limit the 
first law of light which states that in a homogeneous medium light 
travels in straight lines. It does not bend around corners nor follow 
detours like sound. 

Second, light has been measured and proven to have a finite 
velocity of approximately 186,200 miles per second which for por¬ 
trait photography’s practical purposes is absolutely instantaneous. 

Third is the fixed and unalterable law of brightness. It has to 
do with the intensity of light emanations at given points in its pro¬ 
gression. Suppose a point source of light be suspended in such a 
manner that its radiations may be propagated uniformly in all direc¬ 
tions, without interference, the phenomenon is designated as iso¬ 
tropic, that is, having the same properties in all directions. In the 
case of light rays being emitted from such a source, all points of 
equal brightness lie on the surface of a sphere whose center is the 
source of light. To assist in visualizing such a condition imagine a 
perfectly spherical transparent balloon or glass ball in the exact 
center of which has been placed an intense point source of light. If 


25 



the mechanical construction of such an arrangement be perfect then 
each and every point on the inside wall of this balloon or glass hall 
will receive an equal portion of the emanating light and be equal in 
brightness. Either the total area of such a spherical surface or some 
measurable part of it may be taken as a unit of radiation. Now, 
should a second sphere of twice the radius be considered; that is, if 
a second balloon or glass ball he constructed enclosing the first, whose 
diameter is twice as large, then the number of light rays covering 
the surface of the inside ball will be distributed over a sphere of four 
times the surface, since the wall of the second balloon or hall will 
contain four times the area of the first ball. On a unit of surface of 
the larger sphere only one-fourth as many light radiations fall as 
cover the same unit of surface on the smaller sphere. 

To illustrate consider Figure 1. A is a point source of light within 
a sphere represented by the circle BXCY. Let BRMN equal a unit 
of radiation on the surface of the sphere whose radius is AB. Now 
consider a second sphere whose radius is AB' which is just double 
AB in length. Its circumference can be represented by B'X'C/Y'. 
When the unit of radiation BRMN is projected onto the surface of 
the bigger sphere it must cover a surface B'R'M'N' which is just four 
times as large as BRMN. 


26 





p 



It is known then that the law of brightness of light radiations is 
identical with the law of relation of the sizes of the surfaces of 
spheres which are to each other as the square of their radii. It follows 
then that the quantity of light radiations falling upon a unit of sur¬ 
face (hence, its brightness) is inversely proportional to the square 
of the distances from the source of light , that source being considered 
as a point. Because the distance to the sun is so great its variation 
in brightness (or “failing off” in intensity as usually described) is 
negligible as far as normal working distances are concerned. 

In practical application the photographer finds it necessary to 
use four times the quantity of artificial light at twice the distance 
from an illuminated objective to preserve an identical intensity. In 
other words, if he moves the light source from four feet to eight feet 
distance from a face he must either multiply the incident illumina¬ 
tion four times or expose four times as long. 

The properties of reflection are just as important as those already 
discussed. They are the tools with which modeling is accomplished. 
The photographer is confronted with the problem of recording the 
light emanations of reflected surfaces, which present three charac¬ 
teristics: 

1. The smoothness of the reflecting surface. 


27 




p 

t 

l 



2. The position of that surface in relation to a light 
source. 

3. The degree of its absorptive power. 

When a ray of light falls on a plane polished surface the larger part 
of it is reflected in a definite direction. The angle between the incident 
ray and a perpendicular erected to the surface of the plane polished 
surface is called the angle of incidence and is equal to the angle 
formed by the same perpendicular and the reflected ray, which is 
called the angle of reflection. In other words, the angle of incidence 
is always equal to the angle of reflection. 

Figure 2 illustrates this physical law. AC is a plane polished 
surface. IB represents the incident ray of light which strikes AC at 
B and is reflected as shown by BR. PB is a perpendicular to AC and 
bisects the angle IBR; so that the angle IBP equals PBR. In like 
manner if T is the light source directed along the path I'B, it will be 


28 





Figure 4. 


reflected so that I BP equals PBR' and the reflected ray will follow 
the path BR'. 

The point at which a ray of light strikes any surface is called the 
Point of contact. Should the surface he curved that point of contact 
affects a light ray in the same manner as a plane surface which forms 
a tangent to the circle of curvature at that point. This may be visual¬ 
ized by imagining the curve surface to be made up of an infinite 
number of plane surfaces each flat enough so that should a perpen¬ 
dicular be erected to it that perpendicular would divide the angle of 
incident and reflection equally (see Figure 3). 

If the surface is not polished the light is reflected in so many 
directions as to become diffused (see Figure 4). The only difference 
between the light reflected from a polished surface and a rough sur¬ 
face is the degree with which the surfaces of each either directs the 
light in a uniform manner or scatters it in all directions. 

The photographer is concerned with reflecting incident rays into 
the lens of his camera. Diffused surfaces so scatter the light that little 
may be caught by the lens and then only that of low intensity. 
Polished surfaces are less wasteful and may direct rays with such 
accuracy as to create points of great brilliance depending on the 
angle of the reflecting surface. Photographers are in the habit of 
calling these brilliantly reflecting points highlights. 

To locate these points of highlight it is hut necessary to travel 


29 




back over the law of incident and reflection and restate it as follows: 
the point of highest highlight on a curved surface is that point which 
if a perpendicular be erected to the tangent thereof that perpendicu¬ 
lar will bisect the angle formed by the incident and reflected ray. To 
visualize this condition it must be remembered that the reflected ray 
always falls into the camera lens. 

This may be illustrated by reference to Figure 5. Let ABC repre¬ 
sent a curved surface. I is the point source of illumination. If the 
reflecting ray is to fall at R then a perpendicular erected on the tan¬ 
gent TG of the circle which will bisect the angle of the incident and 
reflected ray must fall at P, and the angle IPX will equal XPR and P 
will he the point of highest highlight. Similarly an incident ray which 
is directed to R' will produce a highlight at P' when a perpendicular 
X'P' is erected to the tangent of the circle T G' so that the angle 
IP X' equals the angle X'P'R'. 

So far these laws have considered the source of light as a point. 
All the infinitesimal plane reflecting surfaces surrounding any and 


30 




all objects adds a diffused illumination to that of every direct illu- 
minant. Only in the stratosphere or in specially constructed rooms 
can all the illumination proceed from a single source. Also light may 
emanate from a group of point sources each of which obeys the laws 
just described. When used in compound units highlights from smooth 
surfaces are immediately broadened and diffusion increases and be¬ 
comes more complicated from unpolished reflecting surfaces. 

With artificial illumination the photographer may select a point 
source of light as nearly as such a thing can be made, or he may con¬ 
struct a broad highly diffused illuminant. Perhaps, he will desire to 
employ both and have several units of each. 

In Figure 6 the illuminant is not a point source, but a flame with 
a finite length of II'. It follows that an incident ray emanating from 


31 






Point Source Illumination. Broad Source Illumination. 

Figure 7 . The portrait on the left was exposed by one raw stereopticon bulb. The 
exposure on the right of the same subject was by the same bulb diffused with a large 
sheet of tracing paper. 


the base of the light at I will strike the reflecting surface at P if the 
angle of incidence is equal to the angle of reflection and R is a fixed 
receptive point such as the lens of a camera. But an incident ray pro¬ 
ceeding from the other end of the flame, say at the point I', in order to 
he reflected also to R must strike the reflecting surface AC at P'. 
Therefore, the highest highlight area will be the surface of AC from 
P to P'. 

The third characteristic of reflection is the absorptive properties 
of the reflecting surface. A black surface will absorb almost all of the 
incident rays reflecting very little. A white surface will reflect a large 
amount of the incident light hut may alter the character of its color 
components. Visual observance of absorption is not trustworthy. 
Certain photographic emulsions may have special sensitivity to cer¬ 
tain colors and very little to others. That sensitivity is in no way 
necessarily coincident with visibility. The photographer soon learns 


32 










Figure 8. On the left a heavily screened single light source provided the flat record¬ 
ing. On the right the same illuminant was moved far enough to the side to be within the 
same plane as the head in respect to the lens with the result shown. 


to select certain negative characteristics for specific purposes of re¬ 
cording the reflected light of an object in terms of the absorption 
characteristics of its surface. 

The problem of applying light to a face is as endless as the imagi¬ 
nation and training of the photographer. Adapting these four laws 
of light to a particular face or group of faces for the sake of telling a 
specific story is an undertaking worthy of man’s noblest efforts. It is 
not within the province of the lucky snap-shooter. The broadness 
of the light source (commonly called the degree of diffusion) will tell 
a very different story from a point source of light as Figure 7 illus¬ 
trates. The angle of reflection into the lens will alter the appearance 
of any face. A very acute angle between the incident ray and the re¬ 
flected ray is the cause of what photographers describe as a “flat 
lighting” (Figure 8). Its use will tend to make a thin face seem flesh¬ 
ier. To so illuminate a face already too broad is unfortunate and 


33 








almost certain to anger the person so represented* Obtuse angles of 
reflection act in an opposing manner. They will make a thin face 
appear thinner to the dismay of its possessor, but to the round faced 
person they will prove more kind. 

With the old skylight studios there was not much opportunity to 
apply the four properties of light to the particular benefit of each 
individual. In addition to his rather limited ability to vary the angle 
of reflection, about the only tools with which the photographer could 
alter the illumination were reflectors and screens. With these instru¬ 
ments many marvelous pieces of modeling were accomplished, it is 
true, but such successes were usually with so-called average or normal 
types of face. With the “hard to photograph” they left much to he 
desired. 

With artificial illumination there is scarcely any limit to the possi¬ 
bilities of arrangement and adaptation which may he effected for the 
creating of desired effects if the photographer can be ingenious and 
inventive. When artificial lights were first introduced there were 
those who advocated that they be used in a manner similar to day¬ 
light. The results were usually pitiable. In the first place the laws of 
brightness between the two sources of light were vastly different. 
Also, the degree of diffusion was dissimilar because of the differences 
in size of the illuminants. The color characteristics were quite modi¬ 
fied. To imitate daylight with artificial illumination is to miss many 
of the possibilities of pictorial story telling, if not most of them, and 
is to admit an inability to understand and manipulate the four prop¬ 
erties of light as applied to portraiture. 

As long as faces are dissimilar and tastes in appearance differ laws 
and rules can not he laid down for the application of these properties 
of light. That is fortunate. Portraiture by photography immediately 
becomes something more than standardized recording. There has 
been no more unfortunate commentary on picture production than 
those institutions and persons who have tried to teach photographers 
to nail their lights to a rigid position in order to standardize develop¬ 
ment, exposure and manipulation; so that as far as the photograph 


34 



Figure 9. The brightness intensity of light falls off in inverse proportion to the 
square of distance from a point source. Diffusion modifies the rate of decreased intensity. 


itself was concerned all persons looked alike. Such practice has 
harmed the public’s appreciation of photography as an instrument 
for portrait representation; for mankind still wants to be just a little 
different from each other in individual instances. Secretly every per¬ 
son would like to appear in a class by himself or herself. And stand¬ 
ardized photography did not nor does not supply that satisfaction. 

The broadness of the light source or sources and the angles of 
their respective reflections as well as the color of the illumination and 
the sensitivity of the recording emulsion are variables to be mastered 
by study, experiment, and much consultation with the manufacturers. 
It is a common fault for photographers to imitate each other. Of 
course, much good can come from friendly exchange of ideas, but 
more value will come from studying all the subjects which go together 
to make up the things that control man’s actions. History, economics, 


35 



sociology, religion, ethics and similar subjects are the sciences which 
explain how men’s characters are fashioned. Only by knowing how 
man lives and acts can any photographer hope to select an illumina¬ 
tion which will truthfully represent a particular individual. It may 
be that deep shadows and brilliant highlights will better interpret the 
person before the lens than flat lighting or vice versa. As long as 
individuality exists, standardization of treatment can never be suf¬ 
ficient, and the use of the properties of light to achieve the particular 
effect needed at a specific time is an individual problem for each 
photographer. No rule nor law can be stated to cover the situation. 

To write with light is to know light so perfectly that it may he 
used to alter, to rearrange, to accentuate, to subdue, to emphasize and 
to hide just such items of subject matter as the photographer may 
choose to include or omit in his story of a particular face. His ability 
to make such changes must be learned from sources outside photo¬ 
graphic text books. It comes in proportion to the degree with which 
a man has used his intelligence to develop his education. The assign¬ 
ment is a life-time undertaking and one in which progress may be 
made each day and each year of life. Perhaps, no other profession 
offers more enterprising or fascinating opportunities. 


CHAPTER FOUR 


The Photographer s Drawing Pencil 


The Lens 

Whenever a non-photographic artist visualizes the components of 
a picture and undertakes to assemble them into some sort of repre¬ 
sentative form, he either employs paints, ink, pencil, charcoal, mar¬ 
ble, or such concrete instruments with which to write down the con¬ 
ception. However, when a photographer has an idea and desires to 
render it graphically he must employ light with which to write. It is 
the implement with which he describes an objective as he sees it. 
It is his paint, his ink, his pencil and his charcoal. 

For the photographer’s use science has developed an instrument 
to collect and direct the fluid of his light writing, called a lens. This 
formidable article is an imposing assortment of glass spherical seg¬ 
ments mounted in a barrel like contrivance. Few people are 
acquainted with this apparatus except to appreciate that it costs a 
pretentious amount of money and, therefore, to expect it to perform 
all sorts of difficult feats many of which are entirely impossible. 

It is astounding and highly satisfying at times to discover how 
much some photographers know about the optics of their lenses. In 
many instances the surprise is just as great but not as satisfying to 
discover how little some lens users know about this remarkable con¬ 
trivance. To be able to repeat at will the many specifications of a 


37 


lens, is not necessary to the mastery of its use. To know the formula 
by which it was ground or the refractive indices of its component 
elements may not he essential to employ it to the best advantage, but 
certain lens characteristics are valuable information to the man who 
would control the action of this his drawing pencil. If he is not 
already so fortunate, every diligent photographer should possess an 
exhaustive description of lens construction; a technical discussion 
far more comprehensive than the scope of this treatment permits. No 
photographer’s library should be without some such text. 

Very peculiarly the oldest lens which history records was found 
in Ninevah that ancient city of licentiousness which caused Jonah all 
his troubles and the whale a stomach ache. It was a convex rock 
crystal about an inch and a half in diameter. Of its use nothing is 
known. 

Perhaps, such few lenses as were made in those days were em¬ 
ployed for burning or magnifying purposes. Seneca and Pliny both 
recount that the Greeks and Romans were acquainted with the mag¬ 
nifying power of a globe filled with water. Nero, the notorious Ro¬ 
man fiddler, is said to have watched gladiatorial combats with a pol¬ 
ished emerald. Whether this emerald was so ground as to form a lens 
or whether it simply acted as a green filter to screen the intense sun 
from the emperor’s weak eyes is not known. 

The first camera obscuras were contrived with only pinholes for 
constructing the image. Of course, the image on the ground glass was 
very difficult to see because the smallness of the opening passed so 
little light. Later a spectacle lens was adjusted in place of the pinhole, 
and much clearer and more distinct images resulted. 

The science of optics preceded the discovery of photography by 
only a decade or two. Simple meniscus lenses were all that was known 
about lenses when Daguerre and Niepce were trying to find out how 
much the other knew without either committing himself. Charles 
Chevalier is said to have contrived a meniscus lens for Daguerre in 
1839. 

The lens for a camera has often been compared to the human eye. 
It is true that there are a great many similar characteristics, but not 


38 


nearly as many as such a comparison usually suggests. For instance, 
there is a great difference in the manner by which each is focused for 
critical definition. The eye employs a muscular action to alter the 
shape of the lens and automatically accommodates itself thereby for 
distance to the object viewed. But the lens has no such accommoda¬ 
tive power. It views subject matter much as the eye sees a group of 
items which the observer willfully refuses to allow his vision to focus 
clearly except on one of the articles at a time. All other details are 
very indistinctly recognized. Some mechanical contrivance is impera¬ 
tive for changing the spacing between the lens and the sensitized 
receiving surface to solve the focusing problem of distance to an 
objective. 

The thoughtless observer very often expects impossible results 
from a lens because his eye rapidly and unconsciously alters its shape 
to accommodate its focus for near and distant objects never once 
recognizing that the two points are not in the same focusing plane, 
and expects a lens to do the same thing. It has no such capacity. 

The lens is less accommodating than the pinhole which maintains 
a uniform degree of definition (such as it is) on both near and dis¬ 
tant objects at the same time. A lens may approach the same resolu¬ 
tion when used with a very small aperture much like a pinhole, hut 
such a use demands extremely long exposures and introduces diffrac¬ 
tion difficulties of annoying proportions. 

Many photographers have measured the virtues of a lens by 
whether it would “cut sharp” or not. They also learn to recognize 
that some lenses fail in “covering power” and lack “flatness of field,” 
without having a clear knowledge of what such terms mean or how 
to use both defects and corrections to advantage according to the 
particular problems involved. Were it to be pointed out that a cer¬ 
tain lens was woefully uncorrect for flatness of field, for instance, the 
first impression would be that such a lens was utterly useless, but to 
give a sense of roundness in portrait heads or to produce a sense of 
atmospheric perspective such a lens offers decided advantages over 
the more expensive and better corrected types. It depends upon the 
purpose required for a desired effect to judge the virtues or vicissi- 


39 



Figure 10. This photo¬ 
graph pictures the phe¬ 
nomenon called refraction 
for actually the steel rod is 
straight. It only appears to 
be bent. 


tudes of a given lens, and it behooves the skillful photographer to 
know what specifications may be used for which purpose if he is 
to employ “his drawing pencil” to the best advantage. 

To evolve what is acceptably recognized as a fully corrected lens, 
manufacturers were confronted with many optical obstacles of which 
spherical aberration, chromatic aberration, astigmatism, coma and so 
on were the most obstinate to solve. Years of patient effort were spent 
to surmount the difficulties which they caused. Some general knowl¬ 
edge of their attributes will prove valuable information. 

In the preceding chapter it was stated that the first law of light 
required that in a homogeneous medium light travels in straight lines. 
Every student has observed that should a stick be placed at an angle 
to the surface of a body of water it seems to be bent when partly 
immersed, indicating that when the transmitting medium changes, 


to 



Figure 11. This illustrates a cross 
section of a converging lens. Light rays 
from A and B are bent to focus ap¬ 
proximately at F. 

light will begin a straight line detour. (Figure 10). The student is 
further familiar with the fact that should a ray of sunlight be admit¬ 
ted to a darkened room so as to strike the surface of a body of water at 
an angle, part of the ray will be reflected away but the remainder will 
enter the water undergoing a slight change of direction. Then should 
this light ray be able to emerge from the body of water into the air 
again from a surface parallel to the first it will again bend and assume 
its original direction of propagation. The whole theory of lens con¬ 
struction is based on this principle of bending light when it passes 
from one medium into another, and the phenomenon is called refrac¬ 
tion. This action must not be confused with diffraction which is the 
bending of light when passing across a sharp edge in a homogeneous 
medium. 

By employing some transparent substance such as glass so shaped 
as to have surfaces which are segments of spheres it was found that 
the refractive power of the glass medium in respect to the curved 
surfaces would convert light radiations to an approximate point and 
form images (see Figure 11). If an ordinary reading glass be taken 
(the surfaces of which are spherical segments) and held so as to con¬ 
centrate the radiations of an incandescent light source onto a sheet 
of paper, a clearly defined image of the light source will he formed. 
At this point the lens is said to focus, and the distance from the center 



41 









of the lens to the image on paper is called (generally speaking) the 
focal length of that lens. 

Such a lens which is thicker in the center than near the edges has 
the property of converging the light to an approximate point (see 
Figure 11), but should the lens be ground so that the edges are 
thicker than the center the refractive action is in the opposite direc¬ 
tion and the lens is said to have a diverging characteristic (see Figure 
12). By altering the diameter of the spheres from which the lens 
faces are ground and arranging combinations for converging and di¬ 
verging properties, six distinct types of lenses can be made from a 
medium of constant refractive power (see Figure 13). This knowl¬ 
edge permitted lens manufacturers to correct spherical aberration. 

Early in the manufacturing of lenses it was found that those rays 
of light (from an infinite distance) which fell on the margins of a 
spherically ground lens were refracted and bent more than those rays 
which entered nearer the lens axis. The outer marginal rays would 
focus on the axis nearer the center of the lens than the axial rays 
themselves (see Figure 14). This phenomenon was called spherical 
aberration , since it was a condition arising solely from the spherical 
shape of the lens. By the combination of two lenses, one having di¬ 
verging, and the other converging resolutions, the refractive action of 
each could be so calculated that the errors of the one were corrected 


12 






A C C 



Figure 13. 


A B—Double convex. 

C—Plano convex. 

D—Concave convex. 
E — F—Double concave. 
G—Plano concave. 

H—Convexo concave. 


by the other and all infinite light rays entering such a combination 
would focus at the same point as far as the spherical shape of the 
lens was concerned. 

Since it was the marginal rays which caused the spherical aberra¬ 
tion some makers employed a mechanical shield called a diaphragm 
to cut out the troublesome refractions. But the reduced amount of 
transmitted light made the corrective measure very expensive in ex¬ 
posure time. Some telescope manufacturers solved the problem by 
calculating the curvature to diminish toward the edges; so that the 
index of refraction for each larger axial cylinder of light from an 
infinite source would radiate to the same focus. This process, while 
correcting the error, proved to require excessive manufacturing cost 


43 













Figure 14. A light ray traveling par¬ 
allel to the lens axis which strikes the 
lens surface at C because of the greater 
obliqueness will be refracted more than 
a second light ray from B which strikes 
the surface at D. Likewise when the 
ray emerges again from the lens, it 
will be deflected still more until it will 
focus at a point F *. However, the light 
ray emanating from B will be refracted 
less throughout its journey into and 
out of the lens and it will focus at a 
point F. This failure of marginal rays 
to focus in the same plane as axial rays 
due to the spherical surface of the re¬ 
fracting surfaces is called “spherical 
aberration.” 


until it is seldom practiced in the making of photographic lenses. 
Instead correction is obtained entirely by the calculation of the re¬ 
fractive values of diverging and converging surfaces to annul each 
other. 

There was still another very annoying error which for many years 
resisted all efforts of inventors to overcome. Light is not monochro¬ 
matic but really color radiations combined. White light may be de¬ 
composed by the refractive action of a prism into its color components 
called the spectrum, the process of decomposition being called 
dispersion. 

To correct lenses for spherical aberration did not prevent the 
refraction which caused dispersion. Lenses still showed very distinct 
“color fringes” which, reduced to black and white, registered blurred 
and indefinite images (see Figure 15). No amount of marginal rays 
by the use of a diaphragm altered this error. It was called chromatism 
or chromatic (color) aberration. 

Finally a Mr. Chester Hall found that by combining different 
kinds of glass which had different refractive indices, such as crown 
and flint glass, an image could be formed without objectionable dis¬ 
persion, and he called his lens an achromatic lens. 

Now by combining converging and diverging segments in order 


44 








Figure 15. It will be observed that a 
red ray R will follow a path through 
a lens to a focal point F, but then if a 
violet ray V enter the lens at practically 
the same point it will be bent more 
than the red ray and therefore focus at 
a point Fk This failure of color to 
focus in one point because of disper¬ 
sion is called “achromatism” or “ chro¬ 
matic aberration” 



to correct spherical aberration and then by making each segment of 
different types of glass each with a different refractive power, both 
spherical aberration and achromatism could be corrected to a very 
satisfactory degree (see Figure 16). 

In correcting for chromatic aberration, however, many lenses now 
in use were calculated to resolve only the blue and most of the green 
rays of the spectrum. Until recently photographic emulsions have 
not been sensitive to light’s red emanations; so that the red ray action 
on a sensitive substance was ignored. Today with highly red sensitive 
emulsions many of the old lenses fail to give satisfactory renderings. 
A few photographers have complained that certain panchromatic 
films recorded poor images, that they did not lay flat in the holders, 
when the entire fault lay with the old imperfect lenses even though 
at the time of manufacture the lenses were “fully corrected” for the 
emulsions then known. 

So far in this discussion all light emanations have been considered 
as traveling in parallel formation to the axial ray from an infinite 
distance. Were there no other radiations to enter the lens its manu¬ 
facture would he relatively simple; but the majority of light rays 
which strike the surface of a lens do so obliquely which complicates 
calculations. Immediately curvilinear distortion, curvature of field, 


45 






Figure 16 . If a red ray R enter a lens 
made up of two segments (one of one 
sort of glass and the other of another) 
it will be bent as illustrated by the 
converging segment and redirected by 
the diverging until it finally focuses at 
F. The violet ray V will be refracted 
more by the first segment but that in¬ 
creased degree of refraction will be 
compensated for by the increased re¬ 
fractive power of the second segment 
until the violet ray finally focuses at F 
This annulling refractive power of two 
lenses of different refractive indices is 
employed to correct achromatic abe*• 
ration. 


astigmatism and coma become agonizing problems. Curvilinear dis¬ 
tortion is that error resulting from the use of a diaphragm or stops 
either before or behind a lens element. If a diaphragm be placed 
before the lens the oblique rays are refracted to form a “barrel” type 
of image; and if behind the lens the image assumes a “pin cushion” 
appearance. Dallmeyer in 1867 conceived the idea of using the dia¬ 
phragm between two elements; so that the curvilinear distortion of 
the front element would annul that of the back, and his resulting lens 
was called rectilinear. 

Curvature of field is the problem of fashioning a lens so that the 
resulting image does not require a saucer shaped receiving screen 
like the inside of the eye, but a flat surface like a film or plate. 

Astigmatism is that lens characteristic whereby horizontal lines 
and vertical lines fail to focus in the same plane. It results from the 
fact that when the incident light is thought of as pencils of light trav¬ 
eling in cylindrical formation instead of single beams, then most of 
them strike a spherical surface obliquely in the same manner as an 
ellipse; that is, one side of the circle is ahead of the other and conse¬ 
quently is resolved onto the receiving screen one ahead of the other 
(see Figure 17). 

It was not until in 1890 that Dr. Rudolph of the Zeiss laboratories 


46 









Figure 17. Suppose a cylindrical 
pencil of light A BCD should fall on 
the spherical surface of a lens. It would 
form an elipse A'B'C X D 1 of which that 
part of the pencil which arrives at B' 
would strike the lens surface before D 1 . 
That cadence will, of course, be main¬ 
tained during refraction and projection 
onto the receiving screen XY; so that 
when the focus is correct for A and C 
it is not correct for D and B and vice 
versa. This condition is call “astig¬ 
matism.’' 



computed the properties of a new optical glass, so that by calculating 
the refractive power of certain surfaces in relation to each other and 
further combining elements and segments of selected refractive in¬ 
dices, he could correct these oblique aberrations within satisfactory 
limits. The new lens he called anastigmat. The prefix “an” meaning 
without, hence without astigmatism. The special glass was named 
after the home town of the Zeiss works and was called Jena glass. 

Zonal aberration or coma, that spherical aberration of oblique 
rays resulting from concentric ring divisions of the lens causing the 
surface to be of unequal magnifying power is a serious deficiency. 
Because it is not always manifest it has been labeled by some as ghost 
spots, and appear as out-of-focus areas near the margin of the picture. 

There is no such thing as a perfect lens, mathematically speaking. 
It is impossible to calculate a correction for one aberration without 
disturbing the calculation of another. As a result all lens formulas 
are compromises intended to be within the limits of visible percepti¬ 
bility. The imperceptible out-of-focus resolutions of a lens are called 
the circles of confusion and may measure from the 1/100 of an inch 
to the 1/500, depending upon the size of the lens. 

Briefly such are the major characteristics of “corrected” lens con¬ 
struction. But it must be remembered that a corrected lens can not 
serve all the requirements of an imaginative photographer. There are 


47 






many types of uneorrected or partially corrected lenses constructed 
for specific purposes. The so-called portrait lens even though ground 
for critical definition in certain zones may be uncorrected for astig¬ 
matism or curvature of field in order to project a spherical appear¬ 
ance to the subject matter, a characteristic commonly described as 
“roundness.” The much abused and faultily used soft-focus lens is 
still further “uncorrected,” but usually constructed after a formula 
intended to resolve a blended pattern of overlapping images differing 
in degree in different areas. The drawing of this type of lens is the 
least understood of any optical instrument used by photographers. 
Many still fail to observe the difference between the images con¬ 
structed by this sort of lens and that of an out-of-focus anastigmat. 

Until 1890 the acme of success in the progress of photography was 
critical definition. The limitations of both the lenses and the record¬ 
ing medium had been so many that it was naturally supposed that to 
achieve a critically “sharp” picture was the ambition of every worker. 
By the last decade of the last century this perfection had been 
achieved to a very satisfactory degree. As would be expected there 
came a reaction which grew to the proportions of a revolution. The 
Photo-Secessionists in America, the Linked Ring in England and 
other similar groups suddenly endorsed “control methods.” These 
were invented to sort out from the miscellaneous subject matter 
which usually cluttered up a photographic print the important items 
and so emphasize them as to leave satisfactory images. Their methods 
were paper negatives, hromoil, gum and such “doctoring” processes. 
To the worker who was in too big a hurry to employ the manipulated 
printing methods and desired to arrive at his picture by straight 
photography, the soft-focus lens was invented as a short cut. It was 
an instrument for eliminating unnecessary detail rather than for the 
“fuzzing-up” of all images. Its function is the interpretation of mass 
values as contrasted with the anastigmat which functions as a re¬ 
corder of line values. Of course, the picture taker who thinks of 
photography only as an instrument for literally and maybe cruelly 
recording images has no need of any type of pictorial apparatus such 
as the soft-focus lens is intended to be. 


48 


CHAPTER FIVE 


The Photographer s Drawing Pencil 


The cost of a lens has usually been and still is the popular yard¬ 
stick for measuring its usefulness. If the price be staggering, then it 
must he superior. Such reasoning is correct within certain limita¬ 
tions. But because a lens has cost a tidy sum does not mean that it 
will resolve a better image than a cheaper one unless specific circum¬ 
stances and instances be stated. 

The novice is not to be censured for being influenced by high 
initial price tags, for he hopes that an expensive equipment will com¬ 
pliment a lack of experience and skill. Too often he discovers to his 
dismay that his costly equipment fails to render him the hoped for 
pictures; due, of course, to his own unfitness for applying the prin¬ 
ciples which made the high cost necessary. 

Expensive highly corrected lenses offer certain advantages in ex¬ 
posure speeds denied those of fewer elements and less precisely com¬ 
puted refractive surfaces; but for the gain in speed there is a loss of 
zonal definition which in many instances is an unfortunate handicap. 

The distance between the nearest object to a lens which is pro¬ 
jected in critical definition and the most distant object similarly ren¬ 
dered is called the depth of field. This condition is not to he confused 
with depth of focus or depth of definition. These last two synonymous 
terms denote the distance along the lens axis within which the receiv¬ 
ing screen may be moved without disturbing the visual definition of a 
fixed objective. Depth of field has to do with the projected length of 
an objective before the camera which may be rendered with critical 


49 



Figure IS. Should a lens be used at 
a large aperture, a light ray C would be 
refracted rather abruptly to a focus 
between F and F'. But a light ray D 
being nearer the axial ray, and there¬ 
fore refracted but little would be so 
close to the axis AB for a distance from 
/i to ft that as far as the eye is con¬ 
cerned (that is, within the visibility of 
the circles of confusion) any point in 
between could be a “visual” focal 
point; and the distance from f i to ft is 
said to be the “depth” of focus or defi¬ 
nition for a light ray D. Mathemati¬ 
cally, of course, there would be but 
one point on AB where D would cross. 


definition; whereas, depth of focus or depth of definition has to do 
with the critical definition possibilities behind the lens. These two 
characteristics of lens action are of great practical importance in the 
every day problems presented to a photographer; and are often little 
understood. 

It will be well to become thoroughly familiar with these two phe¬ 
nomena by remembering that depth of field must he disassociated 
from depth of focus or definition since the former has to do with the 
objective and the latter with the receiving screen. The one is a con¬ 
dition before the lens; the other concerns the result behind the lens. 
The two, of course, are interrelated, and a lens can not have great 
depth of field without having a corresponding depth of focus and 
vice versa (see Figure 18). 

By reference to Figure 19, it will be observed that the larger the 
lens opening the shorter will be the depth of focus and the depth of 
field; so that with large apertures very painstaking care must he exer¬ 
cised to secure critical definition. Otherwise the aperture must be 
reduced and speed of exposure proportionally sacrificed to secure a 
sufficient depth of field and a corresponding depth of focus. This 
phenomenon explains the limitations of the very fast lenses and 
shows why they require painstaking skill in manipulation. 


50 








A 

T 


Figure 19. This drawing shows how those light rays which enter a lens near the axis are 
deflected little from parallel progression permitting a depth of focus from ft to ft. A 
marginal ray, however, will be refracted so obliquely that its depth'of focus will be only 
F to Fk 



It becomes still more apparent that were the eye as critical as 
mathematical formulae, it would he impossible to construct a cor¬ 
rected lens at all. To correct each of the many aberrations, every 
computation is at best a compromise. Further observation reveals the 
fact that the larger the lens opening the greater the compromise; so 
that so-called highly corrected fast lenses may not be as capable of 
critical definition as slower lenses of fewer aberration compromises. 
Fast lenses are primarily for speed as their description states and not 
for the ultimate in aberration correction. 

Much to the disappointment and often to the bewilderment of the 
photographer, the longer the focal length of a lens the less depth of 
definition it has in proportion to receiving screens of corresponding 
sizes. By reference to Figure 20, two lenses of relative aperture open¬ 
ings are pictured in cross section. The top one is a six inch lens with 
a three inch aperture which would describe its opening as F2. The 
lower one is a three inch lens with an aperture of one and one-half 
inches which would make it also have a working stop of F2. 

The amount of light admitted through each is the same. They 
are said to possess the same speed, but as the drawing shows a point P 


51 






one-half inch from the focus F would be at the center of a circle of 
confusion of Pp diameter, and would show a very disagreeably 
blurred image. But with the smaller lens which admits the same rela¬ 
tive amount of light a point P' one-quarter of an inch from F' which 
is maintaining the same relative image size to that of the larger lens 
would be the center of a circle of confusion of P p r diameter which 
is but half that of the larger lens. The blur of out-of-focus is hut half 
as disconcerting and the definition is twice as critical. It is possible 
to grind very short focus lenses covering small fields; so that for all 
practical purposes they do not need to be focused at all providing 
they work at comparatively small apertures. Such lenses are called 
fixed focus. 

Early in the construction of lenses, apparatus was designed to ex¬ 
clude the marginal rays as a corrective for spherical aberration. 
These contrivances were called stops and at present are achieved by 
iris diaphragms. As the science of optics developed, it was found that 
spherical aberration could be better corrected by combinations of 
refractive indices, but apertures were not discarded for they proved 
to be very useful in controlling other factors. 

First, it was necessary that the size of the effective aperture have 
a name by which the lens characteristic which that aperture provided 
might be recorded and repeated at will. Many systems were advanced 
but at present only one has survived, commonly called the f/ system. 
It provides a numerator and denominator fractional value incorpor¬ 
ating the focal length of the lens. That is, the diameter of any stop 
(or to be more correct, the diameter of the light beam permitted by 
a given aperture) is divided into the focal length of the lens, render¬ 
ing the quotient as the f/ value. It will be observed that sueli a mark¬ 
ing method permits a constant fractional value for different focal 
lengths. To illustrate, if an eight inch lens be stopped to an aperture 
of one inch diameter, it is said to be working at f/8. Or if the aper¬ 
ture be reduced to one-half inch diameter the f/ value is 16 and the 
lens is described as having a stop of f/16. 

The size of the aperture provides the photographer with three 
variables. The alteration or manipulation of each provides him with 


52 












a controllable factor by which the light with which his lens writes 
may he directed. They are: 

1. The depth of field and corresponding depth of 
focus. 

2. Exposure control, and 

3. Selective definition, especially in the case of soft 
focus lenses. 

It lias been described how the marginal rays entering a lens limits 
its depth of field and focus. From that, it readily follows that to con¬ 
trol and select a depth of field and focus it is only necessary to adjust 
the aperture to such a diameter as will accomplish this purpose. Since 
the area of circles are to each other as the squares of their diameters, 
the amount of light transmitted through a given sized aperture will be 
a variable proportionate to the respective squares of the diameter. 
It is quite evident that the control of this variable offers great latitude 
of exposure selection. In cinematography the shutter speed is nearly 
always constant; so that when the actinic power of the illuminant can 
not he controlled, the aperture may he regulated to provide correct 
exposure. 

Commercial photographers are in the habit of using very small 
apertures when the speed of exposure permits. They say that they 
“stop way down” for the demands of llieir customers usually require 
critical definition over a great depth of field. But with small aper¬ 
tures and increased exposures to accommodate, the coefficient of ex¬ 
posure error is greatly reduced making for greater accuracy in 
securing properly timed negatives. For instance, suppose the correct 
exposure for a f/4 stop to be 1/100 of a second, hut the camera man 
misjudges the light and exposes for 1/50 of a second, he has over¬ 
exposed 100 per cent with the chances of having affected the light 
and shade balance in so doing. But suppose he stops down to f/64, 
then his correct exposure would be about 2/3 of a second, and a 
miscalculation of 1/50 or even 1/10 of a second would be entirely 
corrected by the latitude of the negative material, and the exposure 
error would not be appreciable. 

The use of the aperture as an instrument for selective definition 


54 



A. B. 

Figure 21. The effect of aperture size on depth of focus. A was made at an opening 
of F6.4; B at F4.5. 


is none too well known. It is a factor offering the imaginative pho¬ 
tographer great opportunities for emphasis, elimination of undesir¬ 
able subject matter and pictorial effect. 

A large aperture, for instance, will permit the rendering of the 
important subject matter in critical definition and will draw the 
remaining and less important objectives with less distinct lines. This 
is a valuable possibility but offers some serious disadvantages to offset 
the gain. With fully corrected lenses this out-of-focus detail may be 
rendered, particularly at extremely large apertures, by a quantity of 
unsightly over-lapping circular spots. The uncorrected lens has a 
slight advantage in this respect. Its out-of-focus resolutions do not 
break away from critical definition with the abruptness with which 
corrected lenses picture subject matter. The objectives outside the 
depth of field are rendered indistinct by a more gradual progression. 
Since the amount of the depth of field is determined by the aperture, 
it follows that an aperture may be selected which offers quite a degree 
of control over the out-of-focus subject matter (see Figure 21). 

Usually the soft focus lens is constructed to permit exceedingly 


55 





A. B. C. 

Figure 22. This illustration shows the opportunities for selective definition with a 
popular type of soft focus lens. At A the aperture used was Fll; at B F5.6; and at C F4. 


large apertures. “Wide-open,” however, their images are extremely 
diffused. This diffusion differs from blurred images contrived hy 
other types of lenses in that there is always one dominant image 
critically defined out from which there flares or spreads an infinite 
number of similar images. No amount of blurring of corrected lenses 
will give a similar result. Such efforts always lack the firmness and 
the solidarity of the dominant or major soft-focus resolution. 

As the soft-focus lens is stopped down, however; that is, as soon 
as the marginal rays which fail to focus at the same point as the axial 
rays are excluded the image becomes more critical in definition until 
at very small apertures the definition approximates that of the finest 
corrected lenses. It may readily he seen, therefore, that by selecting 
an aperture in the use of a soft-focus lens the degree of definition may 
also he controlled within wide margins (see Figure 22). 

It is not the province of this discussion to present an exhaustive 
analysis of the lens. To do so would require a volume in itself; which 
every photographer should study in spare time. But the descriptive 
matter which has been stated will, no doubt, aid in a more compre¬ 
hensive use of the only instrument with which the photographer may 
transfer black and white marks to a receiving screen. And that action 
very aptly makes a lens the photographer’s drawing pencil. 


56 









CHAPTER SIX 


The Illusion of Depth 


The photographer is confronted with many of the same limita¬ 
tions and problems which restrict the effects of other graphic art 
craftsmen. His problem of representing physical dimensions is the 
same. Before the advent of color by photography, the graphic artist 
had a slight advantage, for there is a dimensional effect or, at least, a 
heightening and intensifying consequence due to the increased con¬ 
trast values which color may add to the impressions of blacks and 
whites and greys. 

Most subject matter has three dimensions—height, width and 
thickness. These the sculptor may represent with fidelity, if he be 
skillful, but the graphic artist is without such physical exactness no 
matter how expert he may be. His mural, or canvas, or paper has only 
two mathematical dimensions as far as the pictorial representation 
itself is concerned. He may picture height and width with actual 
finite measurements recorded to scale; but depth or thickness or dis¬ 
tance can not be pictured with concrete markings. Therefore, he is 
obliged to create an effect, an illusion, a feeling or a sense of a third 
dimension. He must resort to promoting abstract conceptions. 

The Latin has provided a word, perspicio , meaning, I look 
through , to describe the effect whereby a sense of depth or third di- 


57 


mension is imparted to a graphic rendering. We call it perspective. 
It is the manipulation hy which a picture is said to illustrate round¬ 
ness, depth, distance, thickness and solidity. It is the impression of a 
measurable third dimension without any such actual existence. 

Without doubt, the artists of classical Greece had formulated and 
tabulated all the laws of perspective; but if so, like the great majority 
of their masterpieces, the information was lost at the time of the 
barbaric invasions and the subsequent social decay. About the be¬ 
ginning of the 15th century, interest in the study of perspective was 
revived until now its laws are established and recognized; and often 
observed by artists. Not always, of course. 

This author chooses to divide the causes which will create dimen¬ 
sional illusions into four groups, knowing full well that in so doing 
he is risking some difference of opinion. His four types are: 

1. Linear perspective. 

2. Visibility of form as affected by illumination. 

3. Intensities of brightness areas. 

4. Degree of differential definition. 

Obviously, the subject is far too lengthy to be exhaustively dis¬ 
cussed in this text, and again the author would encourage the reader 
to seek the treatises of recognized authorities for further detailed 
study. 

The first two items for creating an illusion of depth, linear per¬ 
spective and visibility of form as affected by illumination are actual 
factors based on mathematical and geometrical laws; and so long as 
the law of light exists, which requires straight line propagation, these 
two perspective causes will remain positive scientific facts. There are 
those who will be concerned at length with mental impressions. They 
will debate virtues and vices of two-eyed vision as compared and con¬ 
trasted with single-eyed observation. They will speculate at length 
on the emotional reaction which comes from seeing around corners, 
even though that ability is infinitesimally small and usually of abso¬ 
lutely no consequence nor purport. They will endeavor to attach all 
manner of limitations to the rules of perspective, and although their 
philosophies are to be recognized for what they may be worth: still 


58 


Figure 23. 

A Vanishing Point. 

the place for their dehate is not here. This brief discussion is con¬ 
cerned only with linear perspective and illumination visibility as 
they are concerned by the laws of optics. 

Linear means line; therefore, linear perspective has to do first 
with the disposition of what actually in nature are parallel lines; and 
second with all the remaining infinite number of surface boundaries. 
A square, when observed at a position opposite the center of one of 
its sides, appears to be a trapezoid in which the sides that are perpen¬ 
dicular to the direction of vision appear to he parallel and the other 
two sides appear to converge to a point in front of the spectator. 
Likewise, a circle when seen obliquely appears not to be a circle at 
all hut an ellipse with its shortest diameter in line with the spectator, 
and its longest at right angles to this. 

Should an observer stand in the center of a railroad track the 



59 






rails will appear to converge somewhere in the distance. Actually, 
of course, nothing of the sort happens. The rails maintain a constant 
width apart. The convergence is only an optical observation. The 
converging point is called a vanishing point (see Figure 23). 

In the last analysis, the perspective of line is that optical law with 
which exact measurements change their visual size in proportion to 
the relative distance to the observer. Because of it we learn to judge 
distances by association of magnitudes. The smaller a thing appears, 
the further away it is and vice versa. In driving down the road, the 
driver of a car calculates the distance to an oncoming car by its size. 
The length of a building is estimated by the visual shortness of its 
furthest end. The length of a train is gauged by the diminutiveness 
of the remotest coach. Linear perspective is the instrument for recog¬ 
nizing space intervals by the relative association of sizes. 

Fortunately, for the economy of the photographers time and 
energy, linear perspective is solved by the lens and the angle of the 
negative plane; and is controlled only and entirely by view 7 point. 
Cameras are usually equipped with what are called swing hacks for 
the purpose of altering the disposition of all horizontal and perpen¬ 
dicular vanishing points. It is customary to picture architectural 
objectives on the same plane as they are in nature in which case the 
swing back must be employed to prevent the subject from appearing 
to “fall out” or “fall into” the picture (see Figure 24). That is. the 
swing back is adjusted so that parallel lines in the objective will re¬ 
main so on the receiving screen. The use of the swing back to bring 
near or far objects into focus is after all the business of altering the 
plane of the negative to dispose of horizontal and perpendicular 
vanishing points for the purpose of special definition regardless of 
their fidelity to the plane of the objective. 

Linear perspective is manipulated solely by the point of view. 
Its position defines the arrangement, the proportions and magnitude 
of the objective. Altering its placement provides a variable by which 
infinite latitude of representation may he effected. The camera lens 
is always the point of view. 

There is some confusion in the minds of photographers on what 


60 


A. 


B. 


C. 

Figure 24. These three 
prints illustrate the 
manner hy which the 
swing hack on the cam¬ 
era controls the perpen¬ 
dicular vanishing points. 
In A the top of the 
building appears to “fall 
into” the picture. At C 
it falls out. At B per- 
pendicular v a n i s hing 
points have been elimi¬ 
nated and the sides of the 
building appear parallel. 



Figure 24 


61 
















the lens does to linear perspective. They have been admonished to 
employ long focus lenses for the sake of better drawing and less dis¬ 
tortion until they seem to think there is some characteristic incident 
to the lens itself which affects perspective. It is not a lens attribute 
which causes short focus lenses to create so-called distortion by the 
position of the lens. It is the point of view. 

Linear perspective from a given point of view is rigidly unalter¬ 
able no matter what focal length lens may be employed. The long 
focus lens will, of course, resolve a much larger image than one of a 
shorter focal length from a given point of view, but the linear per¬ 
spective of both lenses is identical. The selection of a long or short 
focus lens is determined entirely by the size of the image desired. 

In the upper illustration of Figure 25, let AB represent an object 
to be resolved by a six and twelve inch lens. The shorter lens will 
project the image to a size a'b' with two-thirds of its negative space 
unused. But the twelve inch lens will project the same object to an 
image size A'B' with very little of a comparable sized negative left. 

In both instances, the angles with which a'b' strike the receiving 
screen and A'B' are recorded are identical which means that although 
the image sizes are different the perspective is the same. 

In similar manner CD will fill all the negative space c'd' and 
require a much bigger receiving screen at CD' to include the entire 
image. Again the angles are the same which indicates the perspective 
to be identical despite different negative sizes. 

But, if the same two lenses be moved further from AB and CD 
as in the lower drawing, the angles with which the images are re¬ 
corded will differ from the angles which the same objects made in the 
upper figure, showing that the perspective has changed when the view 
point changed. 

Again the relation of a'b' made by the six inch lens to A'B' made 
by the twelve inch lens is still constant, proving that the focal length 
of a lens changes image size but does not change perspective. Only a 
change of view-point can alter perspective. 

If two lenses of different focal length be used to make two nega¬ 
tives from the same point of view, the shorter focal length lens will 


62 



Figure 25. 


include much more subject matter, but if prints be made from both 
negatives; so that the subjects in both instances are the same size, the 
prints will be identical as far as linear perspective is concerned. 
There will be a difference in aerial perspective, and depth of defini¬ 
tion at similar relative apertures, and the resulting negative may even 
show a noticeable difference in grain and critical definition, but the 
linear perspective will be the same (see Figure 26). 

In portraiture the point of view is an infinite variable with which 
to render effects of proportion and control exaggerations. Even the 
smallest change may alter the entire character of the subject; another 
reason why catch-as-catch-can pictures invite continual failure. Sup¬ 
pose a subject has big ears, then the point of view should be close to 
the front of the face, and a short focus lens should be used to secure 
a standard or pre-determined sized image (see Figure 27). 

As has been shown diagramatically, the nearer an object is placed 
to the point of view the larger it becomes in proportion to other ob¬ 
jects. In fact, the relative size of two objects each lying on an axial 
light ray projected to a vanishing point is in direct proportion to the 
respective distances of each to the point of view, for the sides of two 
triangles are always proportional when the angles are the same. If 
the point of view is moved further away the relative size remains the 
same as the relative distance to the two objects. Hence, big ears 
appear smaller in proportion to the nose and jaw when viewed from 
a near point of view. Similarly, a pugnacious jaw, a protruding fore¬ 
head and to some extent high cheek bones can he made to appear 


6a 











C. D. 


Figure 26. The two prints A and B are from negatives made 11 feet from 
the lens. At A an 18" lens ivas used , and at B a 7" lens was used. Projection 
print C is from the same negative as B and shows identical perspective to A. 
D is from a negative by the 7" lens taken at a 4 1 // viewpoint; so that the image 
size would correspond to that of A. Immediately the perspective changes. The 
hands are larger and the background image is smaller. 


64 























Figure 27. Portrait A was made with an 18" lens. B was made with a 6" lens with 
the camera moved close enough to secure a comparable sized image. Note the relative 
proportions of the ears to the nose in each picture. 


further back by selecting a point of view that takes into account other 
features with which to establish a comparable relationship. 

In like manner a point of view further removed from the face of 
the subject will reduce the proportionate relation of the size of the 
nose in comparison with that of the ears. It will tend to protrude a 
receding chin and a sloping forehead. Fat cheeks will not appear so 
round, a big mouth will seem to be smaller, and a small pair of eyes 
will not look so tiny. Because photographers have adhered to a stand¬ 
ard image size, it has been recommended that they use a long focus 
lens to reduce distortion as all normal resolutions are called from a 
close-up point of view. As stated, however, a proportionately smaller 
image as rendered by a short focus lens would have the same 
perspective drawing. 

To move the point of view along the axis of the vanishing point 
in respect to the objective not only alters the proportions of that 


65 




A. B. C. 


Figur 28. Obviously, the high lens view-point of A is incorrect for this bald-headed 
gentleman. The eye level view-point of B shows much less of the baldness, while the 
low view-point of C shows still less. 


objective, but to move it up and down or to either side alters tlie 
disposition of those proportions. 

To continue with the face as an illustration, should the point of 
view be raised above the eye level of the subject, more of the top of 
the head is seen and because of this increased area in proportion to 
the rest of the face its size will appear greater. Should the subject be 
bald, the photographer is giving that condition prominence whenever 
his camera lens (that is, the point of view) is higher than the eye 
level of the subject. Such a position also tends to shorten the length 
of the neck, and increase the appearance of weight. It is to be advo¬ 
cated for slender people whose necks and faces are too long (see 
Figure 28). 

But for fleshy subjects the point of view should be below their 
eye level. Then, the head will appear further up in the air and the 
person will seem to have extra height. I have known subjects with 
double or triple chins to complain angrily because their pictures were 
made from a low point of view. Not knowing the relative propor¬ 
tionate resolutions of linear perspective they insisted a high point 


66 






A. B. 

Figure 29. A too high lens view-point at A shortens an already too short figure. 
B is much more flattering. 


of view would hide their extra chins, never once suspecting all the 
other bulky matter that would be included (Figure 29). 

The second factor for causing an illusion of depth to a graphic 
representation is the visibility of form as affected by illumination. 
Some authorities refer to this function as the effect of shades and 
cast shadows. But since it is the contrast relationship between the 
illuminated portion of an object compared to the unilluminated part 
described as shade (together with the shadow of the object as pro¬ 
jected on an adjacent surface) which permits easy visibility, this 
author believes the characteristic is better described as a function of 
vision. 

If an object be evenly illuminated over its entire area, it is difficult 
to see its contours. There are no light and shade values to give it 
relief. It is not modeled, as the painter terms it. It is flat. But if the 
illuminant be placed to either side of the view point; so that the high 
spots and low places are cast in light and shade, immediately those 


67 







A. B. 

Figure 30. Particularly at a distance, the visibility of B is better than A. 



irregularities are easily seen; and the visibility of form as affected by 
illumination becomes an aid in creating a sense of roundness and 
perspective. The maximum amount of visibility is reached when the 
illumination is so placed that it strikes the objective at a 45° angle. 
The comparison prints of Figure 30 illustrate the fact graphically. 

Like linear perspective this second factor results from the laws 
of optics and, therefore, is a very exact factual condition. The next 
two effects for creating perspective are more dependent upon psycho¬ 
logical reactions than on physical laws and are, therefore, not as 
absolute nor as constant quantities. 

The effect of intensities of brightness areas is wholly a mental 
impression but none the less important in their certainty to produce 
a response. Should two squares of paper, one white and one black, 
he selected and cut to identical measurements, and then mounted on 
large sized backgrounds with the white spot centered on a black 
ground and the black spot on a white ground, an interesting experi- 


68 




Figure 31. Although the white spot on the black ground is identical in size to the 
black spot on the white ground, the former by its awareness seems to be the larger of 

the two. 


ment may be made to illustrate the perspective effect of light 
intensities. 

For, if these two spots on opposite colored grounds be placed in 
the same plane with reference to a given point of view such as a 
camera lens, the white spot will always appear the larger; and in 
appearing the larger of the two it will also appear closer to the view¬ 
point than will its black counterpart. The reason for this psychologi¬ 
cal contradiction of fact results from the ease with which areas of 
high light intensities may be seen. Figure 31 testifies to these 
conclusions. 

Fashion experts for many years have instructed slender persons 
to wear light colors if they wished to give an impression of more 
weight than they actually had. For the same reason they have cau¬ 
tioned fleshy people to shun light tints and by all means to avoid 
white unless they wished to exaggerate their size. Light tones by their 


69 




ease of awareness and apparentness create a sense of nearness which 
dark tones do not have. 

In fact, darkness produces the opposite reaction to light. Objects 
in shade or shadow may he quite close but they will seem to he more 
remote than they actually are, for they lack illumination to assist 
their being seen. Lack of visibility always creates a sense of distance 
and mystery. It reduces size. Slender people should never wear 
black or dark colors, and for the same reason fleshy people can 
minimize weight by dressing in dark values. 

It may be concluded readily that the luminosity of an object 
affects its apparent position in perspective sequences, and that the 
photographer who is a worker in light and shade may employ a system 
of lights and shades that will add to the perspective of his pictures. 

The portrait maker is particularly fortunate in this respect. He 
may arrange his light intensities by following the laws of light previ¬ 
ously discussed; so that those points of the face which actually are the 
closest to the eye of observation; that is., the point of view, are the 
points of highest liigh-lights. Such a resolution would needs make 
an intensely illuminated area on the forehead, one down the center 
of the nose, one on each cheek with the nearer one the more intense 
of the two, one on the upper lip and another on the tip of the chin. 
The remaining areas of the face should be successive degrees of shade 
as they recede away from the lens. The extent of the degree of con¬ 
trast manifest by this recession will influence the amount of perspec¬ 
tive achieved by this expedient. A short scale of gradation will not 
have the perspective value which stronger contrasts will achieve. 
Figure 32 by comparison illustrates this statement. 

It must be remembered that intensities of brightness areas and 
color recording are not to be confused. The value of a high-light on 
the lips and another of equal intensity on the nose and chin must not 
nor will it he recorded to look alike. But they can retain the same 
relative value with respect to the manner by which the red of the lips 
and the color of the nose and chin are recorded. Each color value 
may and should maintain identical degrees of gradations depending 


70 



A. B. 

Figure 32. A short scale of gradation as in A lacks the illusion of depth which the 
stronger contrasts of B give. 


upon the corresponding amounts of light intensities of respective 
areas. 

The fourth factor for creating an illusion of depth is a character¬ 
istic of definition and for the photographer is a problem of focus, 
emulsion recording and, if possible, scene selection. To understand 
the perspective values which definition may influence, it is first wise 
to observe certain characteristics of vision as recognized by the eye 
and consequently interpreted by the lens, and the effects of atmos¬ 
phere. 

When the photographer employs a small lens aperture in order 
to secure a great depth of field, he is creating an unnatural effect. 
No doubt, many will take issue to that statement because of the long 
practice of seeing photographic reproductions in which the nearest 
objects and the infinite distance are pictured in equal detail. The 
eye, however, never sees adjacent objects and distant objects with the 
same definition without the muscular effort of changing focus. The 
reader may prove this statement to his own satisfaction by rigidly 


71 


observing a near object and at the same time allowing himself or 
herself to become conscious of the other objects which are within 
the range of vision. Only one object is in precise definition at a time. 
To have all objects in focus at once is to picture a scene unnaturally. 
Because of the nature of vision which sees but one object distinctly 
at a time there exists a visual characteristic to perspective which may 
be termed more precisely as the factor of differential definition. The 
photographer controls this particular effect by the degree of depth of 
field and the resultant depth of definition. This control is a matter 
of lens selection and manipulation; the smaller the aperture, the 
greater the depth of field and the more objects that are pictured in 
detail and the less the sense of perspective. 

So much has been said and written about the effects of atmosphere 
on perspective that many authorities have made it a major group 
heading in their discussions. There will be those who, on first 
thought, perhaps, will feel that this subordination of such an impor¬ 
tant condition is not a proper classification. But since atmospheric 
effects are conditions that interfere with clearness of visibility and, 
therefore, definition, it seems logical to classify a cause under the 
condition it creates. 

Many centuries ago, artists discovered that the intervening atmos¬ 
phere between near and distant objects affected the visibility of the 
latter. The condition was not constant for at times the distance was 
more clearly seen than at others due to the condition of the air. They 
studied and represented this qualification of vision and called it aerial 
or atmospheric perspective. It was an enhancing characteristic to 
place on a canvas, for it added a feeling of mystery and aroused a 
curiosity in the observer for what might be seen if it were not for the 
lack of definition and subsequent lack of visibility. 

For the photographer to avoid a too great depth of focus in order 
to approach the natural vision is to assist very little the effect of dis¬ 
turbed visibility caused by atmosphere. Particularly is the anastig- 
mat lens an ineffectual drawing pencil in this respect. The soft focus 
lens judiciously manipulated is a far better instrument for delineat¬ 
ing this particular characteristic. Beyond that the photographer is 


72 


very much at the mercy of the elements. If nature does not provide 
an aerial fog which his recording emulsion may render, there is little 
the photographer may do to put that desirable type of perspective 
into his negative. By control processes, however, he may add the 
characteristic to the print. 

Naturally, the use of fog piercing emulsions and filters are not 
suited to the recording of atmospheric perspective. 

Aerial fog provides another type of visibility which at first seems 
to contradict the statements regarding the perspective qualities of 
light intensities. Any good landscape print will picture distant 
mountains or hills, for instance, in successively lighter tones which 
apparently refutes the psychological rule which maintains that light 
areas seem closer to the view-point than darker areas. Yet, if there 
be three hills in a picture each in a different plane the nearest one 
will appear darker than the next and the furthest will be the lightest. 

But this observation does not dispute the rule of light intensities 
and their effect on perspective. Atmosphere neutralizes colors and 
contrasts as they recede toward infinite distance. Whites and blacks 
both become grey. They mix as though fogged over. The contrasts 
between the brightness areas of close-up objectives and identical 
contrasts further away will not have the same scale if aerial perspec¬ 
tive is to be observed. Fog piercing emulsions will destroy the neu¬ 
tralization effect of atmosphere and render the furthest hill in the 
same tones and light intensity contrasts as the closest one. The 
perspective of light intensities is, therefore, a completed condition 
within each plane of subject matter which is modified only as the 
individual planes are neutralized in contrasts by intervening atmos¬ 
phere. 

Such are the factors which control an illusion of depth. By their 
manipulation a sense of perspective may be created within a photo¬ 
graph. But it must not be concluded that each and every condition 
should be incorporated within every picture. Far from it. Rules are 
for the artist to abrogate or follow in part as he or she feels disposed 
for the sake of an effect. If an effect is not appreciated the maker is 
not an artist and would have done better to follow the rules. 


73 


CHAPTER SEVEN 


Negative and Print Quality 


Of all the technical problems confronting the photographer, per¬ 
haps, none is more bewildering than the making of correct negative 
quality. Whatever skill the photographer may have in conception, 
composition, symbolism and presentation will be of little value if 
he fails to secure a negative printability capable of faithfully repre¬ 
senting that skill. It may be enough for some workers to select a 
purpose for their pictures with respect to whatever negative quality 
accident may provide, to concoct a reason for making a picture after 
the negative is developed; but to the man with an ideal, purpose and 
a conviction, negative quality must be just another perfected step 
in his march toward a desired symbolism. 

Strange as it may seem, and as contradictory as some may think, 
correct negative quality depends entirely upon the purpose for which 
each individual picture is made. To some this statement may sound 
heretical, but what is good printability to one is often not so good to 
another. One photographer will swear by a pet manipulation because 
it makes what he terms a soft negative. Another will be just as partial 
to a process which produces a snappier negative. The negative quality 
in each case is correct because the result supplies the particular 
photographer with the particular effect he desires. 

For that matter, few photographers standardize on a negative 
quality. On certain occasions they prefer contrasty characteristics 


74 


and on others they desire soft and less forceful effects. Furthermore, 
a photographer’s tastes are very apt to change with his years. In his 
youth he often demands dramatic contrasts, white highlights and 
stygian shadows, but as age softens the violence of his physical activi¬ 
ties, so also his opinions of good negative quality change; and he will 
prefer softer effects with highlights that possess tones, and shadows 
which are full of detail. In both instances his negative quality may 
he good for the effect which at the time pleased him. 

The manufacturer has undertaken to supply the photographer 
with a generous array of emulsion characteristics which may he 
adapted in specific instances to render a specific effect. For portrait 
purposes, at least, the manufacturer has endeavored to construct a 
recording medium intended to render the brightness values of a face 
and figure in similar relationships. Long ago, however, photogra¬ 
phers, particularly if they thought themselves to be artists, requested 
materials which had the capacity, not only for recording brightness 
ranges with fidelity hut also had the ability to exaggerate or subdue 
those values to suit their moods and temperaments of the moment, for 
photographers have long since moved out of the class of mere record 
makers. They insist on maintaining the right to produce plain re¬ 
cordings, but refuse to be limited to that function in case circum¬ 
stance and imagination prompts them to further exertions. They 
have been goaded and taunted and denounced by the handicraft 
artists as mechanics, until they resent the insinuations. They right¬ 
eously insist on being something more creative than aimless button 
pushers. 

The emulsions which the manufacturer has devised, therefore, 
are dissimilar in, at least (1) speed values, (2) contrast potentialities, 
and (3) color sensitivity. When used for the purpose for which they 
are intended they may record brightness values within certain lati¬ 
tudes to a remarkable degree of exactness; but in each case they have 
the capacity for rendering all these brightness values in varying de¬ 
grees of intensity according to manipulation, thereby allowing the 
photographer an opportunity to exercise such individualism as his 
fancy may direct. 


75 


So printable negative quality becomes an individual attribute, 
depending largely on the user. Whenever proper quality seems lack¬ 
ing, the fault is usually the photographer’s insufficient familiarity 
with the inherent characteristics of the particular emulsion he is 
using, or he lacks the skill to adapt it to the purpose at hand. All of 
which is presupposing that the photographer really has an idea to 
present and that he expects to state it in terms which observers may 
understand. A picture is useless that only its maker appreciates; so 
is one which is made simply to impress some other photographer. 
It must carry over to the onlooker some thought. If the negative 
quality does not take into consideration the popular yardstick, it 
will fail to completely serve the photographer’s intention. This latter 
restriction places a very definite appraisal upon negative quality. It, 
too, must be circumscribed by certain universally accepted standards. 

There is the manufacturer’s standard, for instance. He designs 
his emulsions with the inherent properties of achieving a desired 
density as a result of a given exposure when reduced by a given 
developer at a given temperature and agitation. Tests and measure¬ 
ments show that for every type of emulsion which a manufacturer 
may supply there is a definite relationship between density potentiali¬ 
ties and activating exposure values. To illustrate, let a negative be 
exposed through a graduated interference of transmission, such as 
a step wedge, which is an instrument so constructed as to pass all the 
degrees of light intensities from the full amount presented through 
all the intermediary steps to none at all. Then when the negative is 
developed it will be found that the density differences which resulted 
from the range of exposure values not only have a definite relation¬ 
ship, but that for a part of the picture the relationship is a constant 
ratio. If an emulsion be so properly exposed to the light intensities 
of an object that the resulting density differences are expressed 
within this range of constant ratio, the negative has good quality 
theoretically. All of which, while true and necessary, may seem on 
first reading to he about as clear to the photographer as an income 
tax blank. 

Since many photographers are confused with the specific mean- 


76 


ings of density and contrast and the factors which control these condi¬ 
tions it is well to unscramble the meaning of these two terms and 
specify the factors which control each. To do so will largely solve 
the enigma of good negative quality. 

In popular parlance, density and contrast are often incorrectly 
substituted the one for the other. But their meanings are far from 
interchangeable. They are correlated and dependent the one on the 
other, that is true; hut their properties are not the same. Density 
is a measure of the silver deposit for a given area, and nothing more. 
Negative and print contrast is the difference between the densities of 
two areas. (This definition is not to be confused with the contrast 
potentialities of an emulsion.) If this differentiation be kept in mind 
the factors which control the two will be more readily understood. 

Figure 33 illustrates five still life prints which were made from 
negatives that had been exposed for 5 seconds, 15 seconds, 25 seconds, 
35 seconds and 80 seconds and developed simultaneously for a spe¬ 
cific length of time. The prints from each of the negatives received 
identical exposure and development which illustrates practically that 
each of the five negatives possessed different densities. It is evident, 
therefore, that within the latitude of the emulsion, exposure affects 
and influences density proportionately, for in Figure 34 when each 
print exposure was compensated for negative density, it will be ob¬ 
served that the five negatives have practically the same contrast 
values. In Figure 35, each of the negatives were exposed identically 
but developed differently—A received 7 x /2 minutes development, B 
15 minutes and C 30 minutes. Agitation and temperature remained 
constant. 

When the print exposure for negatives A, B, and C was compen¬ 
sated for their differences of density, it will be noted that the contrast 
between the three is not the same, that it increased as the develop¬ 
ment continued. (All prints were made on the same grade of paper 
and developed in the same developer of a constant temperature.) 

From these illustrations and sensitometric measurements which 
scientifically prove the same thing, the following general rules may 


77 



5 Seconds Exposure, 15 Minutes 
Development. 


15 Seconds Exposure, 15 Minutes 
Development. 



25 Seconds Exposure, 15 Minutes 35 Seconds Exposure, 15 Minutes 

Development. Development. 


Figure 33 

Within the latitude of the 
emulsion, exposure effects den¬ 
sity proportionately. Each of the 
five prints shown received iden¬ 
tical exposure aJid development. 
Exposure and development of 
the negatives tvas as indicated 
beneath each illustration. 



80 Seconds Exposure, 15 Minutes 
Development. 















5 Seconds Exposure, 15 Minutes 
Development. 


15 Seconds Exposure, 15 Minutes 
Development. 



25 Seconds Exposure, 15 Minutes 
Development. 



35 Seconds Exposure, 15 Minutes 
Development. 


Figure 34 

These five prints are from the 
same negatives as shown in Fig¬ 
ure 33, but with the printing ex¬ 
posure adjusted to compensate 
for negative density. 

The data beneath each picture 
refers to the exposure and de¬ 
velopment of the negative not 
the print. 


80 Seconds Exposure, 15 Minutes 
Development. 

















be evolved:—First, within the latitude of the emulsion, exposure 
effects density proportionately and does not disturb contrast (pro¬ 
viding the brightness values of the objective are within the range of 
that same latitude) and second, within the same latitude, contrast is 
the direct result of the extent of the development and the nature of 
its reducing capacities. With these two characteristics better appre¬ 
hended, negative quality becomes a condition more readily under¬ 
stood and more satisfactorily achieved. 

Contrary to many old beliefs among photographers, under¬ 
exposure can never be remedied by prolonged development in normal 
solutions. Known under-exposure may be treated to some slight 
advantage by prolonged development in very weak solutions, although 
the results will never correct the difficulty. Also, over-exposure is not 
helped by short development, even though the negative appears dense 
by safeliglit inspection. For contrast after exposure is a direct prod¬ 
uct of the time of development and its strength. The only satisfactory 
correction for under or over exposure is to make new negatives. 

Most photographers are so pressed for time that they avoid a 
study and discussion of sensitometry. To most of them it is a myste¬ 
rious word which is a headache to understand. They console them¬ 
selves hy stating that sensitometry is all right for the technician in 
the laboratory but too complicated for the man making the pictures. 

Of course, there is some truth in such an assertion, but not enough 
to avoid a brief study of this photographic science. Its fundamental 
facts are not difficult to understand and are certainly helpful in apply¬ 
ing the characteristics of a photographic emulsion to a particular job. 

Sensitometry is the study, and in the opinion of many, the science 
of sensitivity behavior. It measures speed, contrast, color reactions, 
and all other characteristics to which a photographic material may 
lay claim. To accurately secure this information three specially de¬ 
signed recording machines have been designed capable of very pre¬ 
cise measurements. 

The first is called a sensitometer, of which there are several types. 
All of which, however, are so designed that successively increasing 
amounts of known light intensities and standardized color may be 


80 


A. 


20 seconds exposure, 

714 minutes development. 


B. 

20 seconds exposure, 

15 minutes development. 


C. 

20 seconds exposure, 

30 minutes development. 



Figure 35. 


81 



Figure 36. A typical sensitometric strip. 

exposed to a photographic film or paper. Figure 36 shows a print 
from a film which has been exposed in a sensitometer. 

The second instrument is a densitometer. This is a carefully con¬ 
trived apparatus for measuring the densities of a film which has been 
exposed in a sensitometer. 

The third apparatus is a specially designed instrument for illus¬ 
trating the color sensitivity of a photographic emulsion and is known 
as a wedge spectograpli. Figure 37 pictures the results of its use. 



Figure 37. A spectrograph. 

The findings from these instruments must be conveniently re¬ 
corded on charts for easy observation and comparison. To that end 
a standardized type of schematic graph has been universally accepted. 
One such chart is shown in Figure 38. On the vertical lines are 
plotted the densities as measured by the densitometer. On the hori¬ 
zontal lines are marked the relative exposures as produced by a sensi¬ 
tometer. These readings will give a series of points which when 
connected form a line called the characteristic curve, because the 
nature of the curve describes the character of the emulsion charted. 
For convenience, speed and brevity, the density readings are conno¬ 
tated in logarithms and the exposures are related in logarithmic 


82 







Figure 38. A graph illustrating a characteristic curve. 


proportions. To the technician, therefore, density is the logarithm of 
the opacity (light stopping power) although to the practical worker 
it is still a measure of the silver deposit. 

When density differences and exposure quantities increase in 
exact proportion the angle of the characteristic curve slopes at 45° 
with the base, and density and exposure values are to each other as 
one is to one. When that is true the contrast is usually considered 
normal. 

Technicians have agreed on the use of a symbol with which to 
describe contrast. That symbol is represented by a Greek letter called 
gamma. A gamma of one means that when an emulsion has been 
exposed and developed to a predetermined length of time in a solu¬ 
tion of a predetermined nature and the resulting density differences 
are found to be in exact ratio to exposure, a normal contrast results 


83 















































































































































A. B. C. 

Figure 39. 


and it is described as a gamma of one. Should the inherent nature of 
the film be such or the developer characteristic changed or the length 
of development altered, the degree of contrast will change. If density 
differences increase faster than relative exposures the contrast or 
gamma value will be more than one. But if the density differences do 
not increase as rapidly as relative exposures then the contrast or 
gamma value is less than one. 

There is a more or less universally accepted belief among pho¬ 
tographers that the most pleasing negative contrast for portraiture 
is a gamma of less than one; that the gamma of a portrait negative 
should run somewhere around eight-tenths. There is enough differ¬ 
ence of opinion on this point to make an exact conclusion impossible 
and oblige the matter to become a concern of private opinion. 

This brief description of sensitometric language is only intended 
to be sufficient to assist the busy camera craftsman to understand the 
discussions of the technicians when new emulsion characteristics are 
presented for his use. Practically, there is little advantage in knowing 
the logarithmically expressed density of a particular area of a given 
negative. The photographer’s chief concern is “how does it print?” 

That uncertain relation of print densities which may be accepted 
as good quality seldom comes from a negative whose sensitometric 
measurements indicate accurate recording. It is possible to expose 


84 




Figure 39. 

( continued.) 


and develop a negative so that sensitometrically it measures values 
comparable to the brightness and color values of the objective and 
still a subsequent print will fail to have the qualities which were 
sought. The reason for this failure lies in the short-comings of a 
reflecting surface to preserve the values seen by transmitted light. 
The opacity and transparency characteristics of a negative may he 
entirely lost when translated to a reflecting surface. For this reason 
a beautiful negative sensitometrically may be a disappointing printer, 
and a negative which has recorded densities altogether incorrect 
according to ideal sensitometric standards may print satisfactorily. 
So we come back to where we started. The quality of a negative 
depends upon the purpose to which it must be put, and as long as 
purposes vary and individual interpretations of the same purpose 
disagree, good negative quality will remain a variable with respect 
to the characteristics just described. 

Despite all these limitations, there are certain restrictions within 
which portrait negative quality may be confined for the majority of 
instances. There is a general average away from which the unusual 
may differ. If a negative be so exposed and developed that when it 
is printed on a medium or average printing paper, all the brightness 
range of the objective is recorded, it may be said to be of excellent 
quality. There will always he a difference of opinion on what con¬ 
stitutes the correct degree of value recording. Some will prefer soft 



85 







contrasts and others the maximum contrast which the printing me¬ 
dium can supply. It has been stated hy many that a good print is one 
which has all the scale of grey values from a pure white to the blackest 
of blacks. Others prefer a compressed scale which never has a pure 
white or black but all the intermediary values blending into each 
other with the softest of contrasts. 

Figure 39 shows five types of negative quality, all printed on the 
same grade of printing paper. A and B lack range of gradation. They 
are said to be too flat. C and D are correct in proportion to the indi¬ 
vidual taste. No one of the five accurately recorded the brightness 
values of the subject. E has such excessive contrasts that the inter¬ 
mediary gradations have been lost; and in photography that is con¬ 
sidered inexcusable by many critics. Photography’s supreme virtue 
is its ability to record the most delicate of values. Therefore, to wil¬ 
fully sacrifice this virtue is to invite criticism and commit the least 
pardonable of photographic sins. 

Naturally, print quality is the direct result of negative quality 
and is good or bad in direct proportion to the effect desired in terms 
of the purpose of the photographer and his success in putting into 
the negative such characteristics as his printing paper is capable of 
recording. 

Should all this description seem involved and insufficiently 
packed with specific rules of do’s and don’ts, as a few might hope, 
it must be remembered that herein the photographer is being treated 
as an individualist. He is not conceived solely as a robot, but as a 
creative genius who may aspire to and achieve the recognition of a 
competent craftsman with his pictures. 

Such an elasticity of results transcends the compressed standard¬ 
ization which rigid formulas demand. To reach proficiency then 
requires practice and infinite patience— the familiar path to crafts¬ 
manship. There is no short cut even in photography. Presently, each 
workman will evolve a negative quality of his own and a subsequent 
print quality ofttimes as readily recognizable as his signature. Then, 
he will have perfected another tool to place in his workhouse of 
picture making apparatus. 


86 


CHAPTER EIGHT 


Composition 


To attempt a discussion of composition is to risk generous criti¬ 
cism. There are so many contradictory cults, fads and fancies, each 
clamoring for the dictatorship of picture making without proving 
their respective worths, that no one may be adopted as the ultimate 
index to correct assembly. In fact, there are those who deny composi¬ 
tion altogether, but surely that is going too far. 

As long as carpenters must observe certain principles of house 
construction even though no two may construct appearances which 
are the same; as long as sculptors must reckon with the laws of gravity 
and engineers comply with the principles of physics and mathematics, 
just so long must pictures he constructed to conform to accepted 
maxims of form. All the rules of cause and effect can not be thrown 
to the wind simply to please the whims of persons who desire to be 
different and wish to avoid the tenets of social acceptability. 

It is expecting too much to hope that technique will be mastered 
before its expression through composition is undertaken. People are 
not built that way. A photographer even will try to present a symbolic 
idea before he is thoroughly familiar with the mechanics of such a 
presentation. He will endeavor to make a thing look a certain way 
before he is sufficiently schooled in manipulating the apparatus which 
fashions the manner of looking. Such attempts are not to be dis- 


87 


couraged, however, particularly should they succeed in proving the 
value of perfecting technical understanding. There can be little suc¬ 
cess in mastering the philosophies of compositions until the mechan¬ 
ics of construction are thoroughly understood. The photographer 
can no more compose a picture, before schooling himself with re¬ 
peated technical experiences, than the magician can practice presti¬ 
digitation before training his hands to accurate and deft movements. 

Composition is the most discussed term in the art world. It pro¬ 
vides more arguments, cruelly disposes of more ambitious labors 
(either rightly or wrongly) and develops more aloof smugness than 
any other characteristic employed in symbolic representation. 

Often the word composition is used as a bluff voiced in the hopes 
of silencing criticism. When someone says to the maker of a none too 
good picture: 

“Hmmmm. Why did you do this? Should this have been treated 
in this manner? It seems to me-” 

Then, the author interrupts with his stock alibi: 

“I know, but I had to do that to make the composition right.” 

Such an answer usually squelches the critic since he fears his 
knowledge of composition is not all it should be. 

Once in awhile the word composition is used to provide an artistic 
front, an attempt to advertise an assumed artistic competency. 

Recently I witnessed an example of such deception. A bluffing 
father tried to make an impression on me while his son traced a 
creditable piece of childish sketching, with this patronizing admoni¬ 
tion : 

“Son, get your composition right.” 

Of course, the father knew no more about composition than the 
son, if as much; but he thought he was displaying superior knowl¬ 
edge by using such a mystifying word. 

Composition has to do with treatment and, therefore, may mean 
everything, or in the opinion of some may mean nothing. Certainly 
it is the deliberate interpretation of a personal view-point. In that 
case there is danger of it becoming conventional and stereotyped, 
hide hound or senile when men convene, discuss and agree. In such 


88 




A. B. 

Figure 40. Composition is making order as in B of the chaos in A. 


cases the young repudiate the consensus of opinion and the old repu¬ 
diate the young. 

To agree on the principles of composition is to establish a stand¬ 
ard and a creaking formula. In America such a situation dominates 
because of the highly standardized production of commodities. But 
formulas are resisted by those who enjoy individuality and are not 
content to be spoon fed. Sooner or later such individuals throw out 
their formulas and deny composition altogether stating that if such 
a thing exists at all, then: 

“Composition is what I like. Phooey to what anyone else may 
think or like or care.” 

Fortunately composition is neither an inelastic formula nor can 
it be ignored altogether. If it be elastic it is not strictly scientific and 
yet it is scientific in that it results from accumulated knowledge in 
the same degree as economics and sociology become scientific. It is 
a variable which permits self expression. It is a tool with which to 
interpret the rigid and inelastic formulas of technique. It is not so 
much what a picture says as it is the way the saying is said. It is a 
variable in the manner of presentation by which a thousand artists 
may picture the same objective in a thousand different ways without 
copying each other. 

As its name indicates composition is a treatment intended to bring 
order out of chaos (see Figure 40). To photography that statement is 


89 



particularly important and valuable; for photography has been criti¬ 
cized because of its jumbled up subject matter and lack of organized 
simplicity which is composition. If composition is to bring order out 
of chaos then it presupposes much thought and indicates tireless 
planning. It denies accident and forbids luck as a means of achieve¬ 
ment. It may tend to stupefy spontaneity but it does not deny inspira¬ 
tion or free thinking. 

The photographer is permitted two working methods by which to 
achieve composition. Of these two, the older method has been called 
subtractive whereby he makes a negative as best he may, and then 
undertakes by control processes to eliminate this and that, alter one 
value and change another tone, redesign this area and refashion that 
shape until a satisfactory result is secured. Then there is the newer 
additive technique. By this system he may select a boundary limited 
space and add item by item such subject matter, such tones and values 
and such light and shade renderings as may please his fancy to arrive 
at a desired effect. Not always will he be able to be a rigid adherent 
to just one or the other of these processes unless the pleasure of 
crusading for a pet theory be more attractive than the possible results. 
Otherwise he will find it advantageous to employ some of both the 
subtractive and additive procedures to arrive at his desired picturi- 
zation. 

The principles of composition are based on the mind’s reaction to 
disciplinary measures and become comprehensive in direct propor¬ 
tion to mental attainments. By nature all persons avoid effort and 
only undertake tasks as a result of mental compulsion for which there 
is some sort of expected reward. That reward may be economic 
affluence, the satisfaction of possessing knowledge, the elation from 
popular adulation and so on. In picture making it is the joy of 
artistic achievement. 

Accordingly the first item on the list of composition’s elastic 
formulae is the need of a definite purpose, the illustration of a speci¬ 
fied piece of subject matter. The mind prefers to assume the task of 
considering but one subject at a time. Such a statement would seem 
so obvious as to be unnecessary, but photography has produced so 


90 



Figure 41. “The Critics” is a group arrangement based on triangular composition 


many pictures whose purpose is problematic and whose subject mat¬ 
ter is so confusing as to give no one item emphasis or prominence. It 
has been the criticism of artists since photography was invented that 
it pictured the hogs and cows and chickens with equal attention to 
all, and that when it came to selectivity nothing eluded the camera 
lens from the piano to the kitchen sink. 

The principle object is usually described as the center of interest. 
Long ago a famous artist stated, “Thou shall not paint two pictures 
on one canvas.” That does not mean that there must be hut one item 
included in a picture. But it does mean that there must be but one 
principal item and all other items must not only be subordinated but 
must be supporting. Such an arrangement provides unity and variety 
without the two contradicting each other. Any images unnecessary 
to carry importance to the principal object or item should be omitted 


91 



for they tend to detract interest and weaken the result; they interfere 
with solidity and curtail strength. 

It will break the hearts of many photographers to state that this 
first principle of composition eliminates portrait groups from the 
category of pictorial or artistic pictures. That does not discount 
studied efforts to contrive a pattern of persons which is pleasing; 
but it does limit the pictorial results when the arrangement of that 
pattern must be such that each individual person receive an equal 
position of prominence. The very instant, however, when one person 
(or maybe some object) can be selected as a center of interest with 
all other individuals so placed as to become supporting characters 
directing attention to the principal figure (or object) the composition 
may be such as to be pictorial, and artistic, but not until then (see 
Figures 41 and 42). The world’s greatest example proving this point 
is Rembrandt’s “Night Watch.” It was to be a group picture hut only 
one figure dominated. Rembrandt was criticized unmercifully by 
those persons who did not receive a position and treatment of promi¬ 
nence. 

The photographer may employ five effects, at least, with which 
to give the center of interest its intended and rightful prominence 
(Figure 43). 

1. He may cause it to contain the highest light in the 
picture. 

2. Or the darkest dark in the picture. 

3. He may cause it to be rendered in the most critical 
definition with all other items pictured in varying 
degrees of “out-of-focus” usually in proportion to 
their respective importance. 

4. He may describe eye paths whose directions lead 
to the desired object. 

5. He may place the principal item on the path of the 
axial vanishing point. 

The highest highlight by nature of its maximum reflective value 
forms a spot more easily seen (since less effort is expended) than 
surrounding tones of less reflective brilliance. In like manner the 


92 



Figure 42. “Deuces Wild” is a composition arranged by the use of circular treatment. 


order of the tone values may be reversed; so that the darkest dark 
becomes the sum of all color values. When such emphasis is applied 
to the center of interest and all surrounding and supporting items 
rendered in more neutral tone qualities and color quantities, less 
effort will be required to readily find such a picture part and this 
part will receive the attention-getting characteristics which it should 
have. Such a rendering then becomes an effective manipulation for 
producing subject matter prominence. 

The emphasis of either the highest light or the deepest dark is 
directly dependent upon the subordinate amount of light and shade 
values. A great many lights will detract from the importance of the 
highest light, and too many darks will likewise weaken the effect of 
the darkest dark. Some workers will undertake to include both the 
highest light and the deepest dark within the center of interest, often 


93 



adjacent to each other, and produce a maximum of tonal emphasis 
by such a use of abrupt and violent contrasts. 

Similarly, special definition can become an effect to properly 
direct attention to a desired item because of the ease of vision which 
critical resolutions provide. Out-of-focus items are too difficult to 
distinguish and the mind willingly seeks that which requires the least 
effort to see plainly. 

Eye paths are but components of the three effects just described 
employed to lead the vision by easy stages to a desired point. They 
are the tonal tracks and definition lanes effected by the arrangement 
of supporting subject matter which cause a recognition of the prin¬ 
cipal values. 

To place an object on the eye path of the axial vanishing point is 
the weakest of all the effects because it appeals to the laziest of all 
visual efforts. When an observer is so indolent that he or she can not 
look either up or down or to either side but must stare straight ahead 
in the most static of all visual positions, he or she is looking down 
the path of the axial vanishing point into the infinite distance. To 
take advantage of this effect may provide some small emphasis. 

It is the ambition of many workers to employ the effects of special 
definition and directional eye paths to their light and shade contrast, 
placing it on the path of the axial vanishing point, in an effort to 
attract all attention getting effects to their center of interest, and 
thereby pack their pictures with the ultimate amount of punch. 

Such effects are dangerous, however, and are avoided by the great 
majority of workers. They shun arrangements which are violent lest 
the violence unexpectedly manifest itself in a contrary direction and 
precipitate a devastating result. They find it safer to adhere to a 
middle course, never going too far away from easy contrasts, simple 
definition, temperate eye paths, and the like. Perhaps their pictures 
are never as dramatic , never skyrocket into sudden fame, but neither 
do they excite as much criticism nor fall from favor as rapidly once 
the peak of the impression is passed. 

Composition begins and ends with the frame of the picture. That 
is to state, thou shalt not only make one picture at a time, thou shalt 


94 



Figure 43. The center of interest is indicated in this portrait by the mechanical 
arrangement of the highest highlight placed next to one of the darkest areas, by the 
position of the hands to form eye paths, by the sharpest focus resolutions, and the 
directional emphasis of the axial vanishing point. 


95 


limit that one picture to a specific behavior. It shall extend into the 
surrounding space only far enough for that supporting space to add 
a desired effect to the purpose of the subject matter itself. In other 
words, the frame of every picture must be a contributing factor for 
emphasis by the limiting power of its borders. The additive worker 
naturally begins with his frame, but the subtractive worker trims and 
crops, trims and crops and trims in order to end the competitive 
attraction of unnecessary items. 

With a single principal piece of subject matter and a frame to 
help exclude unwanted items the next step in composition is a proper 
location for that subject matter and its supporting objects. Lengthy 
study of the habits of successful artists on this point indicates that 
only rarely is the exact center of a picture, that is, the point where 
its diagonals cross, a satisfactory position for the center of interest. 
The reason is simple. It goes hack to the previously stated premise 
that the mind resents disciplinary measures. 

An object placed equally distant from either side, top and bottom 
requires a mental effort to be kept in such a position. There is equal 
attraction in all directions and mental labor must be exercised to 
maintain such a tension. That labor steals from appreciation. 

Such a tension may be relieved slightly by the addition of certain 
supporting items, each placed an equal distance from the center of 
interest; so that the resulting assembly would be symmetrical and 
would ease the strain of an equal pull in all directions. 

But symmetry is not easy to appreciate by an undisciplined mind. 
Symmetry requires an exactness and repetition that is ritualistic 
which in turn imposes a conformist’s program. That will not do, for 
artists strive to be different from each other despite their persistent 
copying. Until individualism is entirely displaced by standardization 
symmetry will never be the ultimate of artistic satisfaction (see 
Figure 44). 

Rhythm and symmetry are much like twins; they look alike but 
act differently. Rhythm appeals to a fundamental emotion as is 
illustrated by the effects of a rhythmically re-occurring drum heat 
on a wildman traveling the floor of the jungle, or on his somewhat 


96 





Figure 44. 


Symmetry. 


97 










#■* 



Figure 45. Rhythm as customarily portrayed. 


98 


mmSKm 














Figure 46. A mechanical 
method of indicating the cus¬ 
tomary position for a center 
of interest. 



more civilized brother hopping about a night club dance floor. 
Rhythm is primitive, unregulated, lawless and undignified. It may 
vary in degree of emphasis, but at no time must it fail to repeat itself 
in measured repetition. Symmetry, however, is stately and does not 
vary in degree. Once its stride is established, it must pursue that 
program unrelentingly. It demands an exactness and accuracy which 
rhythm does not have. It is not as exciting, therefore, since it is 
denied the element of surprise permitted rhythm. Rhythm and 
variety travel together, abetting and substantiating each other 
(Figure 45). 

Just as soon as the center of interest is moved in any direction 
away from the intersection of the frame’s diagonals the tension of 
equal side attraction is broken and the effort to maintain a rigid 


99 











balance relieved (Figure 46). Hence is formed the next principle 
of composition; namely. 

The center of interest is best placed outside the exact picture 
center. 

As soon as the principal object is placed off-center the tension 
of equal side attraction is relieved, hut in so doing a feeling of lack 
of balance very often appears unless secondary objects are so placed 
to prevent such an unstable appearance. There are so many features 
which can provide or disrupt a sense of balance and proportion that 
it becomes necessary to first describe a picture’s parts with certain 
impersonal components as disassociated from subject matter. This 
analysis is based on form, despite certain groups who deny the exis¬ 
tence of form; or at least the need of its restricting symbols. But 
photography can not he so ethereal. Its subject matter always has 
some sort of form or shape. 

Form may he divided into mass and line. These form describing 
characteristics are practically inseparable features. It is almost im¬ 
possible to have the one without the other. Essentially line is the 
boundary of mass, and mass is the space between the lines. However, 
mass must be restricted to an area whose total impression is a unit. 
Of course, one subject matter may have innumerable mass areas so 
long as each becomes a unit supporting and adding in effect to the 
greater unit. 

There are straight lines and curved lines and their combinations 
each with a distinct symbolism at the service of artist and photogra¬ 
pher. Straight lines are ascetic, ritualistic and monotonous. They 
may be employed as agencies in creating a religious feeling. Simi¬ 
larly, the circle is just as ascetic, ritualistic and monotonous. It differs 
from the straight line in that it always returns to its starting point. 
It, too, may be used for religious effects. In fact, the circle is the 
emblem of eternity and at one time was never omitted from religious 
pictures which included divine characters; its service being a halo. 
The curved line being neither straight nor a circle has unlimited 
symbolic possibilities. Lacking ritualistic conformity it is more 
imaginative and stimulating. It knows no absolute rule and offers as 


100 



Figure 47. 


A method of using the line of beauty. 


101 



much possibility as the imagination of the artist or photographer may 
invent. 

Two centuries before Christ, an Athenian sculptor, Praxiteles, 
announced a principle for the use of line. He selected the arc of the 
human back as the basis of his theory. To him it was a line of perfect 
beauty. He employed it in posing until it became known as the Praxi- 
telean curve. Hogarth, a 14th Century Englishman, reestablished 
the principle with a theory of line beauty which he illustrated with 
the curve of a horse’s neck. Today the same general line is commonly 
called the S-curve. Technically the line of beauty is the path of a 
moving point which changes the angle of its direction with each 
succeeding point in its travel. Again there is a very definite psycho¬ 
logical reason why such a line is so universally pleasing. It offers the 
least mental effort to trace its course. There is not the conforming 
effort of the straight line and the circle. There is change and variety 
to please a never satisfied taste (Figure 47). 

Slender people have body lines which approach straightness so 
much as to be monotonous and are not thought to be as beautiful as 
they should be. Fleshy people whose body curves nearly aproach the 
circle are likewise monotonous, soft and voluptuous in line value. 
Beauty of line lies in a variety of straight lines and circles balanced 
to satisfy taste. 

The mass areas between the lines are likewise supposed to be so 
placed as to give a sense of balance. Various systems have been pro¬ 
posed to determine a method for securing such a balance. Some have 
advocated geometric equations and pointed to enumerations of even 
numbers as being unwise since the equal proportions and subsequent 
balance requires too much mental effort to be preserved. They advo¬ 
cate uneven numerical arrangements as breaking the laborious exact¬ 
ness of symmetry, and point to the fundamentals of harmony in 
music which is based on triads, fifths, sevenths and ninths as an 
example to prove their contention. Others advocate the physical 
law of leverage as illustrated by the steelyards as a mechanical means 
of setting up a balance. They imply the use of an imaginary fulcrum 


102 


placed near the picture’s center and distribute their masses and space 
values accordingly. 

Balance is the end of the pavement toward which all rules and 
principles of art must travel. It is the exception value which tran¬ 
scends all laws. It continues after rules end. It can never be assigned 
a positive quotient. All component parts, effects, mannerisms, and 
technique must bow to its unstable will. Lights and darks, critical 
definition and out-of-focus resolutions, definiteness and atmosphere, 
straight lines and circles, masses, texture, gradation and so on must 
all find their way into the scales of balance. 

To set up a balance between opposing forces seems to be the entire 
business of life. A perfect equilibrium will never be reached. What 
may balance on one man’s scales will he up or down weight on 
another’s. Each pair of scales is peculiar to the ideals, experience 
and habits of each individual. 

But life is so directed that the effort to discover a balance through 
the peculiar channels of each man’s individual method of expression 
continues to go on and on. The business of assembling a picture into 
that balance is composition. 


103 


CHAPTER NINE 


From Head to Foot 


This formula, if it may be called such, for telling the story of a 
face began with a word picture of those forces which have influenced 
man to be concerned with such a function. That became the first item 
in this list of ingredients intended to form a working concoction. A 
presentation of how photography was invented to serve the average 
person followed together with a resume of the several conceptions 
of its nature, action, and some of its influences on the cultural order 
of things. Certainly these two basic properties materially affect the 
final solution. 

Then, there was outlined an enumeration and discussion of 
specific photographic instruments; the “ink,” the “pen,” and the 
“paper,” which in the function of photographic light writing syn¬ 
thetically produces a finished symbolic message. 

As the sequence continued the principles of pictorial assembly 
(usually called composition) were briefly indicated. It will now be 
well to apply these basic principles to the human body; in other 
words, to set forth the mechanics of posing. 

From an anatomical standpoint photographers have established 
a custom of making three types of portraits: 

1. Head and shoulders 

2. Three quarter figures 

3. Full lengths. 


104 


The first class is the most popular. Either it pleases the majority 
of those who face the lens, or it completes the intent of the person 
behind the lens. The public evidently demands the recording of just 
the head and shoulders, or the photographer seldom attempts to 
include a larger portion of human anatomy because he fears the 
results, appreciates his lack of ability to master the added difficulties, 
or just naturally does not care to be bothered. Perhaps the latter. 

Obviously head and shoulder portraiture presents fewer dilem¬ 
mas than the other two types. It is much easier to settle on just one 
center of interest. The dangers of conflicting subjects each clamoring 
for the spotlight of attention are reduced to a minimum. It is the 
simplest type of portraiture and for that reason will always be the 
favorite. 

In the head and shoulders arrangement the eyes naturally be¬ 
come the aesthetic center. The manner by which they have been 
eulogized as the “windows to the soul,” “flashing a meaning more 
eloquent than words,” has given them the undisputed place of im¬ 
portance in the face’s page of headline items. Authors and orators 
have established this dictum until it has become a universally ac¬ 
cepted maxim that the photographer naturally adopts. Accordingly 
he has formed the habit of beginning to assemble his picture with 
the eyes as a starting point. Thereafter all other features become 
accessories. 

The second most expressive organ in rendering the story of a face 
is the mouth. More persons have complained about the way their 
mouths look in a photograph than of any other facial part. Either 
the mouth looks too big, too thick, too crooked, too cross, too cruel, 
or too this or too that. But then mouths always have been trouble 
makers. So it is the habit of the expert photographer to study the 
eyes and the mouth carefully, determine to his own satisfaction the 
nature of the attitude he hopes to cause them to express, and then 
select one of three fundamental positions, or a variation of them, as 
a base to interpret the determination. 

The manner by which the expression of the eyes and mouth may 
be affected by a basic position, no doubt, is not apparent on first 


105 



Figure 48. Full front view or 
static position. 


Figure 49. Full face and turned 
shoulder position. 


thought. It is to be remembered, however, that the amount of light 
admitted into a house by its windows depends upon the position of 
the foundation in relation to the sun. The same is true of the mind’s 
representative features. If the expression of the eyes and mouth be 
forceful and vigorous, the position of the body should suggest dy¬ 
namic action and a feeling of motion. In like manner if the expres¬ 
sion of the eyes and mouth are soft and tender the position of the 
head and shoulders should be restful and inactive to follow in with 
the same sensation. But that same easy expression of eyes and mouth 
may be contradicted by a more dynamic body position. It is for the 
photographer to decide and select the combination which pleases 
his purpose. 

The three basic positions which the photographer uses to augment 
or subdue the expressions of the face are: 


106 



Figure 50. Ninety degree head and 
shoulder position. 



1. The full front view or static position. 

2. The full face and turned shoulders pose, or the 
half action posture. 

3. The ninety degree head and shoulders position, or maxi¬ 
mum movement figure. 

The first position is illustrated in Figure 48. The eyes and shoul¬ 
ders are both facing the same way. The subject is completely at rest. 
There is no uncompleted action; nothing in the position to indicate 
expectancy or anticipated motion. The observer can not join the per¬ 
son pictured in the doing of any act, for the act is already finished. 

It is a position for interpreting a quiet and retiring individual. 
One who shrinks from the spotlight of attention. It would not de¬ 
scribe a social leader nor a person engaged in active public work. It 
would do well with a person of age who is no longer dynamically 
active, but who has stepped out of the rush of hard work. 

The second position as illustrated in Figure 49 gives an impres¬ 
sion of a movement to be made. Whereas the first pose describes the 


107 


past tense, this one indicates the future. There is the feeling that 
sooner or later the head will be turned back to a full front position in 
relation to the shoulders as in Figure 48. An action is to come. The 
reason for this feeling is simple; for when the head is turned on the 
shoulders an observer unconsciously sympathizes with the effort 
which the subject must put forth to be so placed and shares the sen¬ 
sation that presently the turned position will become difficult to hold 
and the head will necessarily turn back to a more comfortable pos¬ 
ture. This feeling that an action is going to take place gives the picture 
the quality of anticipated motion and a sense of aliveness. 

Such a position is best suited for average people. Folks who are 
neither retiring nor over active; persons who easily follow a leader 
They neither lag behind nor do they forge ahead. 

Figure 50 represents the position which has the maximum amount 
of anticipated movement. The young lady can not turn further about 
from a full front view; she has rotated to the limit. In fact, the 
position is turned so far from a restful one that the observer may 
receive a feeling of strain because of an unconscious attempt to share 
the labor of the rotation. If so, the proof is quite evident that such 
a pose conveys the sense of extreme action and is not lifeless or 
passive. 

This is a fitting position for the go-getters; for the social leaders, 
the political pace makers. It carries the dynamic feeling attributed 
to those who are leaders, who head a procession, who carry the flags 
and excite the rest of the public into action. 

By changing the view point, that is, the position of the camera 
lens, these three poses offer an infinite variety of in-between pictures 
ranging from the full front view with its absence of action to the 
same position in profile, and from a maximum movement position 
with the face directed into the lens to the same arrangement in profile. 
Figures 51 and 52 graphically illustrate the fundamental positions 
from which this unlimited variety may be deducted. 

Three-quarter and full figure posing is admittedly a difficult ac¬ 
complishment very often deliberately avoided. To picture a face 
alone is an easy task in comparison to picturing a face, a torso, hands, 


108 



Figure 51. Static position 
in profile. 


Figure 52. Dynamic position 
in profile. 


arms, legs, feet and the clothing which adorns the assembly. To 
simply tell the person to be natural is only to avoid the problem of 
posing. It is true that such an admonition places the responsibility 
of a good pose onto the subject, but it does not relieve the camera 
operator of severe criticism if the resulting picture be awkward, 
ungainly and decidedly unattractive. Few persons can be natural 
gracefully. Perhaps, only trained aesthetic dancers ever achieve this 
unusual characteristic. Furthermore, few persons, especially if they 
are paying good money for their pictures, are satisfied with a record 
of their natural selves. They want to be endowed with a grace and 
beauty which flatters them; which lifts them out of their own natural 
shortcomings into a sphere of unnatural but desired attractiveness 
and beauty. It is a reputation for endowing portraits with this un¬ 
natural but highly desirable quality that gives a professional portrait 


109 


photographer a clientele. Otherwise he is only a dexterous record 
maker, and the credit for that achievement is almost always given to 
the instruments which he uses instead of his ability to manipulate 
them. 

If the average photographer’s procedure of handling the three- 
quarter and full length figures be analyzed, it will be found that as 
a rule he will begin by arranging the head first. He has so schooled 
himself to study facial idiosyncrasies in an attempt to photograph 
them to the best advantage that when the remainder of the figure is 
to he pictured, he still begins with the head. Hurriedly he will note 
the eyes, the mouth, the width of the face and its general contour in 
order to determine a satisfactory view point and type of illumination. 
This being done, he will proceed to arrange the camera, light appa¬ 
ratus, and subject to best picture the face. Then, he will undertake 
to do something with the hands, feet, legs and other appurtenances. 
If he succeeds, he is a wizard; for reason indicates that his procedure 
is backwards. He is “beginning wrong end to.” 

For centuries dancing masters have studied the movements of the 
body and analyzed them in an effort to solve the riddle of physical 
grace. It has been their aim to discover and recreate movements every 
phase of which is a beautiful pose. For a position to be graceful from 
one angle and not from another has not satisfied them. Like the 
sculptor they have searched for the secret of graceful positions from 
all angles and view points. 

These teachers have agreed that all beautiful figure movements 
begin with the feet. A dance motive may be prologued by a sequence 
of hand and shoulder expressions, but they can not be done properly 
if the feet are not first properly arranged. For figure posing to begin 
with the feet is a further acceptance of the theory advanced for eye 
and mouth interpretation by basic head and shoulders posture. There 
must be a foundation upon which to build any and every sort of 
picture. And for the feet to be the starting point for figure posing is 
to furnish a proper foundation. The illustration of the carpenter and 
the house which he may build still holds. So the solution of the 


110 


Figure 53. Erect but ungraceful 
front view. 

photographer’s three-quarter and full length figure posing lies in 
the arrangement of the feet. 

As discussed in an earlier chapter, the line of beauty is the S- 
curve. Its application to the human body has been accepted and 
applied ever since Praxiteles started the fashion in ancient Greece, 
and Hogarth transcribed its philosophy to paper several centuries 
later. It is the line which the photographer must employ if his figures 
are to be graceful. It is the formula with which he achieves physical 
beauty in his portraits. Its use will solve all of his posing problems. 
That is, if he will begin to trace his curve from the feet. 

To arrange the body into the figure of an S-curve is not as difficult 
as it may seem. Many years ago there was a saying among good 
photographers that to pose a person so that their heels could not 
touch the floor solved much of the posing problems. That admonition 
has not been voiced so much of late years but its observance is none 
the less valuable. Those old masters who advocated a position which 



111 









Figure 54. Simple S-curve applied to Figure 55. Compounded S-curve 

full front figure. or spiral. 


swung the subject’s feet free from weight had not analyzed their 
arrangement, perhaps, sufficiently to explain the why of its success. 
They only knew that it worked. Actually they were forcing the subject 
to so position itself so that the feet tended to form an S-curve. It is 
only natural for a person whose heels can not touch a support to 
point the toes in an effort to reach one. In so doing the feet form an 
S-curve, and in such instances it is natural for the body to do likewise. 

If a series of poses will be undertaken in which a model will first 
arrange the feet into an S-curve that model’s whole body will incline 
to follow a similar pattern. At first those who try it will be so stiff 
that results will be disappointing, but with a little practice and a 
disposition to allow the body to relax after the feet are placed, the 
natural reaction of the body will tend to form itself into a curve of 
the S sort. 


112 









Figure 56. Seated S-curve position. 


Figure 57. Seated S-curve low position. 

I 


Figure 53 illustrates the stiff and rigid position of the military 
form at attention. It is difficult to hold and quite tiring to maintain. 
It can scarcely be said to be beautiful although there are, no doubt, 
many instances when some such rigidity best interprets the purpose 
a photographer might have in interpreting a characteristic as he sees 
it. It is never suitable for women. Its lack of grace does not fit into 
the accepted conception of desirable feminine beauty. 

However, as soon as the feet are moved so that they do not form 
two similar and coincident positions as in Figure 54, the body natur¬ 
ally falls into a graceful curve. All the weight is on one foot. Then 
the opposite arm functions in some capacity to give it all the business 
of action instead of repose. 

When the S-curve confines its movement to only two directions 


113 





Figure 58. Simple S-curve applied to 
full front figure. 


Figure 59. Compounded S-curve 
or spiral. 


it will lie in but one plane of perspective from a given view point. 
It will have breadth and height just like any flat surface representa¬ 
tion and illustrates the S-curve in its simplest form. 

But it so happens that the S-curve may he compounded and given 
a third dimension. It may he given thickness as well as height and 
width. Its path then follows the direction of the spiral. In so doing 
it has assumed the maximum of movement. Its sinuous twist gives a 
complete measure of dynamic response. It is the sum of all the lines 
of beauty. The degree of the pitch may vary and supply a variation 
of impetus. The speed with which a spiral pitches an observer into 
the maximum of response may vary, hut its ultimate result is always 
the same. Figure 55 illustrates the spiral movement applied to the 
physical body. 

This is not a position to he attempted by just any customer or 


114 













Figure 60. Seated S-curve 
position. 



model. It is too dynamic for the average person just as is the ninety 
degree head and shoulder position. It is suitable for actors and 
actresses and persons given to extreme activity. 

Figure 56 shows how a seated position follows the S-curve pro¬ 
vided the height of the seat be such that only the toes of the model 
can touch the floor. Perhaps this position is the most useful of all 
poses. It is well suited to the person of average characteristics. It is 
easily adapted to the thin as well as the fleshy. Of course, there are 
exceptions but it is the business of the photographer to observe in 
advance such exceptions and select another pose instead. The spiral 
may be added to this position with much more ease than to the stand¬ 
ing pose. It is easier to do and, therefore, may be applied with less 
caution. 

If the height of the seat be lowered further; so far that the angle 
of the knees is less than ninety degrees, and the heels lifted from the 
floor until only the toes touch, once again the figure naturally assumes 


115 




Figure 61. The S-curve applied to hands. 


an S-curve and hence a graceful position (Figure 57). This is not a 
position to be recommended too often. It is far from kind to a fleshy 
person and its compactness disturbs the ease of making draperies 
appear graceful. The S-curve is too compact for comfort. The degree 
of its curvature is too abrupt to be followed with ease. Still the posi¬ 
tion tends to prove the principle of figure posing as advanced. 

Figures 58, 59 and 60 repeat the examples shown in Figures 54, 
55 and 56 with a fully clothed model. 

What is true of the body as a whole is true of its parts. The hands, 
the arms and the feet are graceful when they follow the sinuous 
suggestiveness of the S-curve (see Figure 61). 

The number of positions which may be evolved from this basic 
principle are as numerous as the ingenuity of the photographer can 
provide. Only his own research and resourcefulness will limit the 
variety of figure posing which can begin with the feet first. All the 
positions from head to foot fall within the scope of this principle. 


116 



CHAPTER TEN 


Images Not Seen on the Ground Glass 


This chapter is the last ingredient to be added to the formula for 
telling the story of a face. With the principles proposed in its discus¬ 
sion the synthesis will be complete.* 

The accomplishment of any task, be it the building of a dam, the 
promotion of a sales program, or the making of a portrait is influ¬ 
enced by three factors. To underestimate the value of any one of the 
three is to invite almost certain failure. The first two have been dis¬ 
cussed. They are (1) an understanding and a skill in the use of the 
apparatus with which the work is done; commonly referred to as 
technique; and (2) the application of that technique to the arrange¬ 
ment of the particular enterprise which in the case of art is called 
composition. The third factor has to do with the attitude of a man 
when he attempts to employ the first two. 

Fine photographic recording results from the application of 
technical excellence and expertly arranged composition. So fine, in 
fact, that many competent judges insist that the sum of perfection 
is therewith attained and nothing more can he added. When eminent 
scholars come to such conclusions, it may provoke argument to offer 

*Note—All quotations in this chapter have been taken from the notes of the late J. F. Bailey, 
Ph. D. 


117 





supplementary qualifications. However, artists from the beginning 
of time have tried to transcend mere recording and to fashion the 
virtues of convincingness so that the observer will experience an 
emotion which otherwise would not he felt. They have thought that 
skill in recording was merely a fact to be falsified, if necessary, to 
project a conjured piece of representative symbolism. In short, their 
ambition has been to create a picture more significant to the patron 
than the factual evidence rendered by mechanical presentation. 
Surely, if this ambition is ever reached, it will be by virtue of the 
attitude of the individual producer, and that attitude will be in direct 
proportion to his or her individual thinking capacity. 

“Should it appear that we do sometimes think, and should it also 
appear that what we think depends on what we have seen and heard; 
and should it be concluded, therefore, that what we achieve depends 
on what we think, it will then appeal to us that we should begin to 
learn how to use, and how not to use, what has been builded into our 
personalities by our environment and by our meditation. We will 
find it expedient to inquire as to how much came uninvited and how 
much is at work without our knowing that it is there. 

“Because I walk upright or because I have a spinal column is no 
reason for my being called a man. A pig has a spinal column so 
much like a man that one with little training could scarcely discover 
a difference. Some of the monkey family walk much of the time on 
two feet, hut that does not entitle them to be called men. 

“If I am a man and a monkey is not, the difference is because of 
my superior thinking. The one distinctly human attribute which 
raises man from out of the class of animals is that of having to do 
with the formation of objectives of effort; an ability to reason and 
weigh the values of thought processes. 

“I am persuaded that the most difficult and yet the most prolific 
task for human employment is the pursuit of an earnest and intelli¬ 
gent and unbiased investigation into the thought processes through 
which we have come to our present selves. This is not only a race 
task, it is a task for every individual. No man is able to either use his 
own highest efficiency nor improve his present self until he has an 


118 


elementary knowledge, at least, of the functioning of his present per¬ 
sonality. 

""It takes a brave man to take stock of himself. To measure his 
neighbor is a common pastime whether it he done rightly or wrongly. 
But to critically and unbiasedly lay a yardstick along ourselves is a 
task usually avoided. We are too afraid of the results. We fear that 
to improve will impose certain labors of self discipline which will 
interfere with present pleasantries. But there is no other manner by 
which to make improvement. There is no other way with which to 
discover the nature of an attitude which will either contribute to or 
detract from a capacity to reach beyond skillful mechanical record¬ 
ing. 

“In fact, there is no other way to prevent retrogression. How else 
can an artist hope to express his art in terms of his own personality? 
By some hocus-pocus bluff, and by big talk about being born that 
way? Certainly not. That sort of cheap front fools nobody today, 
except, perhaps, the very ignorant. 

“You who have so many thousands of times looked on your 
ground glass to see what later you expect to find on the finished print 
have doubtless thought that all you saw on that ground glass was 
directed there by the camera lens. You have thought that only what 
the lens transcribed would he on the negative. It may be that yon 
have satisfied yourselves with the belief that only the subject before 
the lens could he pictured on that ever revealing ground glass. 

“Please be assured that if your observation has gone no further 
than the particular subject of each individual picture, you have 
missed many, many things. I can promise you that in all probability 
there are a great many things before the lens besides the particular 
subject that are included in the final print; things which the camera 
operator does not see at all. In like manner there are just as certainly 
many things which he thinks he sees which actually are not there 
at all. The image which the photographer sees on the ground glass is 
but one of a large number which by some mysterious manner crowd 
their way, perhaps, unpleasantly into the picture.” 

Each and every experience together with each and every thought 


119 


process which man has affects his subsequent actions and attitudes 
toward all that he does. Many of them remain active in his memory 
while the remainder will lay dormant in the unconscious mind for 
extended periods. The degree of the effect of each is not the same. 
Some experiences leave indelible marks and are continually fresh 
within the memory (perhaps, because of wilful remembering). 
Others are not so impressive and maybe are forgotten as incidents, 
but remain to become thought patterns to influence future reactions. 
In either case they form factors for directing a man’s motivation 
differing in degree. 

The genius invents an instrument not out of thin air, but by 
putting together all the fragmentary pictures of mechanical functions 
which remain stored within his memory as a result of all the study 
and experimenting he or someone else has done before him. When 
pieced together they form a new appliance. An old colored preacher 
once boasted that he never prepared his sermons; that he just opened 
his mouth and the Lord filled it. Unquestionably the Lord did that 
very thing with the only substance handy—hot air. Photographers 
have been known to pat themselves on the back by expressing their 
philosophy of creation which depended upon the whim of the situ¬ 
ation. They would not study, but depended upon their feelings to 
guide them. Their results usually compared favorably with the col¬ 
ored preacher’s sermon. 

“Somewhere in the past each photographer has seen a face which 
to him was very attractive. It was so attractive that there was estab¬ 
lished a conscious emotion of admiration that became lasting. That 
face became an ideal which that photographer tries to portray with 
every face before his camera. Even though that face or personality by 
some uncontrollable force or condition be removed from the presence 
of the photographer until he is disappointed and distressed, it will still 
remain an influence over him. Should his distress and disappoint¬ 
ment become so keen that he wilfully intends to forget the face, and 
so far as consciousness is concerned succeeds, still when some cus¬ 
tomer or model by inadvertent suggestion or appearance awakens 
an association with that long forgotten face, that face will again be- 


120 


come the ideal and influence the photographer to reproduce its 
elements. 

“This is a picture not seen on the ground glass. The camera man 
will not he conscious that he spends an undue amount of time arrang¬ 
ing his camera and lights, but when he is finished he will have found 
that element in his sitter’s face which awakened the image from the 
unconscious. Thus does the mind function. Only hy this method is 
there creation. From a fund of such images does ability arise.” 

In an effort to conjure the images not seen on the ground glass 
into an inspiration and not a hindrance to this author whenever he 
attempted to make portraits, as many available works of art were 
studied as opportunity afforded. He had been convinced of the need 
to construct a composite female face, at least, that would include 
those beauty elements which artists accepted and adopted. In an 
effort to gain proficiency he would sit for hours with a drawing board 
and a pencil sketching profiles, figures, hands and feet; measuring 
and committing the size of these parts; copying the contour of lips, 
the shape of eyes, the formation of nostrils and outline of chins. He 
learned to recognize the difference between the ancient Grecian and 
Roman types. He observed the influence of the Egyptian preference. 
He studied the heavy eyed, oval faced and pointed chinned Italian 
ladies who crowd the canvases of Michael Angelo’s period. He 
learned about the cool, blond features of the Anglican races, and the 
dark, vivacious sirens of Latin lands. It paid, too, for he early gained 
a profitable reputation for being able to make ladies appear beautiful 
in their portraits. 

This synthetic ideal, however, lacked a personality. She was not 
a living creature. She was without any inspirational value except as 
a yardstick for comparing the physical features of a sitter to the calcu¬ 
lated measurements of the composite ideal. As a result the author’s 
photographs of women lacked animation. They were only mechan¬ 
ically acceptable. It was not until he found a model whose face and 
figure so nearly fitted the composite ideal, and whose personality was 
so engaging that she supplanted the conjured beauty and from then on 
his female portraits began to be living women. To dark skinned, 


121 


brown eyed, black haired Mary Virginia and her tireless vivacity must 
be given a large share of this photographer’s skill, such as it may be. 
She and another brown eyed and black haired creature whose influ¬ 
ence in other capacities are just as important or more so, and whom 
he married, are the two principal female images which influence his 
vision. 

Failure to portray faces successfully is always the result of incor¬ 
rectly conditioned images not seen on the ground glass. It may be that 
there are hidden away in the recesses of the mind unconscious dis¬ 
likes and unfortunate, unrecognizable prejudices. Instead of the 
unconscious image picturing an admired person, it may be that the 
face of the sitter awakens an unconscious association with one who 
has been intensely disgusting or who has greatly displeased the 
camera operator. 

When this author was a child of three or four, a very fleshy lady 
took him on her lap and began “to make over” him with one of those 
affectionate maulings which helpless children are often obliged to 
endure. Not yet being sufficiently intelligent to understand that the 
lady’s intentions were all they should be, he became quite frightened, 
and began to scream and cry to such an extent, that his grandmother 
stated afterward that he “almost had spasms.” 

Although today he can remember neither the incident nor the 
well-intentioned, if ill advised lady, he still experiences trepidation 
in the presence of corpulent women, and as a result his efforts to 
photograph them have been difficult undertakings. During that child¬ 
hood misfortune there was established a fear within his mind which 
was to lie dormant within the unconscious mind even after the child 
grew up, until the sight of an overly stout person activated it, and 
caused a resentful reaction. Whenever a female of excessive physical 
proportions sat before the author’s camera, other images besides 
those which he saw on his ground glass interfered with his picture 
taking. Of recent years it must be stated in self defense and to prove 
the philosophies herewith set forth, that he has taken stock of this 
particular unconscious volition and because, too, of the gracious 
influence of one particular stout lady friend, he has corrected his fear 
to the extent that his ability to photograph the obese shows remark¬ 
able improvement. 


122 



Figure 62. The same model as seen by twelve photographers. 
(Courtesy Agfa Diamond) 












In contrast to the author’s experience there is a mid-west photog¬ 
rapher who has established an enviable reputation as a photographer 
of fleshy women. The reason is quite simple. Both his wife and his 
mother are ample ladies and he loves them dearly. Every time a 
rotund customer sits before his camera his ground glass is crowded 
with pleasant pictures of happy living. Of course, he is successful. 

From all this it is very evident that no photographer ever inter¬ 
prets the personality of his customer or model, but instead records 
the face of that customer or model in terms of his own personality, 
for personality is but a personal picture pieced together from the 
experiences of the past as conditioned by one’s attitude and subse¬ 
quent thought processes. 

In the accompanying illustration (Figure 62) there are twelve 
portraits of the same man, by as many different photographers. It is 
apparent that no two camera men saw him alike, for the subject wore 
the same suit, and similar ties, and combed his hair as nearly the same 
way as possible each time. All the pictures were made within a space 
of five weeks. But from the pictures his age might range from eighteen 
to thirty-five. Some of the photographers saw him as a young school 
boy just beginning to go with the girls. Others saw him prosperous 
and of middle age of the sort usually ascribed to executives. In one 
picture he is happy and contented; in another he seems to be suffer¬ 
ing from unrequited love. Certainly, no two photographers make the 
same person look similarly. 

“Every picture is a composite of what is before the camera plus 
the skill of the artist to use the images not seen on the ground glass, 
which have been accumulated from past experience and training, and 
retained within the conscious and unconscious mental activities. He 
who would make good portraits will take the trouble to accumulate, 
sort, select and implant within his thought realm great pictures to be¬ 
come a reservoir from which he may draw to create his own pictures. 
To accomplish such a task, unfortunate pictures and unfortunate 
training must be conditioned to eliminate the hindrances. Without 
doubt, the undertaking is worthy of the greatest of men, making of 


124 


those who would tell the story of a face, competent and respected 
craftsmen.” 

Then, by virtue of the images not seen on the ground glass factual 
representation may he transcended and light may be used to write 
through photographic mediums certain conditioned ideals so expertly 
that the result is art. 

Many years ago, a red headed teacher whose name has long since 
been forgotten would take this author and several other similarly 
undeveloped boys on hikes and trips around a summer resort lake. 
A few of the places visited are remembered, but what is of more 
importance, a short verse of admonition became implanted in the 
author’s memory. It was to become an influence all through life for 
conditioning the pictures which crowd onto his ground glass. Repeat¬ 
edly, he would quote, “Study to show thyself approved, a workman 
which needeth not to be ashamed.” 2 Timothy 2:15. 


125 


AFTER WORD 


Eventful years have passed since the timid gentleman with the 
wide angle vision prompted the accumulation of information set 
down in the preceding chapters. Years when it seemed that at last 
human nature had changed and portraiture was no longer an expres¬ 
sion of emotion. Years when apparently the business of living and 
loving and making the world a fit place in which to live were forgotten 
ideals. Years when the click of the shutter became rarer and stories 
of the face were far from the minds of the public. Sentiment seemed 
to have gone with horses and buggies to be supplanted by mechanical, 
hard as steel philosophies of hatred and class strife. Years in which 
the screams of a cynical press, the mouthings of an incautious pulpit, 
the bunglings of a stupid pedagogy, and the traitorism of philander¬ 
ing politicians apparently had created a new brand of human nature. 
One that had no need for the expressions of brotherhood, friendship 
and love. 

But no such calamity had really taken place. Those disheartening 
years were only the periods of extremist expressions. The press had 
gone cynical only in unfortunate instances; the pulpit had been stig¬ 
matized by a few publicity hunting Judas Iscariots; pedagogy had 
suffered by the rantings of a few, and political humbuggery had not 


126 


absorbed all the statesmen. The majority were unwilling to sell their 
souls for a vote. Sentiment was only suffering a period of suppressed 
emphasis and its expression in unwanted portraiture had only fol¬ 
lowed suit. 

For a time the pendulum will swing to the other extreme, for such 
is the way with human nature, and portraiture will flourish. The 
public will have a season when pictures of each other will he in 
demand. 

But that does not mean a return to the old days. Far from it. The 
old time photographer or the man who follows his methods will fail 
to profit in the new era. He will find himself behind the procession 
with the old time actor and entertainer who could only do one sketch. 
Except in rare instances the musicians of today and tomorrow can 
play more than one instrument. They are versatile. Likewise, the 
actor who can do hut one part soon falls from popular appreciation. 
To be a real attention getter he must clown, tap dance, and do card 
tricks while declaiming his lines. 

No doubt, the photographer will he obliged to be a master of 
many accomplishments. Perhaps, he will be an actor, an economist, 
a story teller, a technician, an historian, a psychologist and certainly 
an idealist. At least, he will he a man’s man among men. 

Such a program imposes a great responsibility. One peculiar to 
the photographic industry alone. A responsibility best illustrated by 
a recent event. Not so long ago in Scranton, Pennsylvania, several 
hundred photographers were assembled to pay honor and give tribute 
to the fiftieth business anniversary of one of their highly esteemed 
brethren, J. B. Schriever. The compliments were lavish and many. It 
seemed that every good thing that could be said of a man was said of 
this gentleman. Then, came one compliment which imposed one of 
the gravest responsibilities on those who would be photographers that 
has ever been set up for any profession. One admirer said: 

“When J. B. Schriever retires from business he will leave in 
almost every home in Scranton a picture as a living monument to 
the ideals which he gave a lifetime to reach.” 


127 

























































77 92 























